Chapter Content
Okay, so, finding your purpose, right? Even in like, the mundane stuff. It's a big topic, and, you know, there's this quote I really like from Frederick Buechner. He basically says that your vocation, your purpose, is where your deep gladness, like, your real joy, meets the world's deep need. It's not just about setting goals, even though goals are important, sure. Goals give you direction, definitely. But, you know, goals can just lead to success, however you measure that, but purpose, that leads to something, well, significant. Goals? Achievable. Purpose? Eh, maybe never fully.
Finding your calling, it's not easy, and it's not like, a one-and-done deal. There was this journalist, Po Bronson, he wrote this book, "What Should I Do with My Life?" back in, uh, the early 2000s. And he interviewed like, nine hundred people! All walks of life, trying to find their purpose. And you know what? He found some crazy self-limiting beliefs. Like, people thought finding a purpose was, get this, *selfish*! They thought it'd push them away from their families, not closer. Or they thought it was just impractical, going to bankrupt them. And others, oh man, they thought purpose was some rare, mysterious thing that would take forever to find.
But here's the thing: purpose isn't a luxury! If your life is all about keeping your family safe, keeping a roof over their heads, paying the bills... that's significant! You're providing care, you're providing support. You gotta recognize the meaning in that, you know? That can be enough, at least for right now. And for a lot of us, finding our purpose isn't about, like, quitting our jobs and selling everything. It's about doing some inner work. Seeing how your skills, your abilities, can fill a need. Big or small.
So, how do you figure out how to create that meaning? Well, start with a couple questions. Research says that less than a third of people actually feel like they have a purpose. So, ask yourself these: Do you want to help others? Make them happier, reduce their suffering, improve the world in some way? And, do you believe you have a talent, a skill, something you can use to do that? The key, a big key anyway, is to figure out how you can say "yes" to both of those questions. Purpose might be just around the corner, or even, like, hiding in your own home. You just gotta convince yourself to go look for it.
Another question, and this one's tougher: Who are you? We usually describe ourselves by our roles, right? Parent, spouse, employee. Or by how we see ourselves based on our successes, failures, what other people think. But forget all that for a sec.
When I say "Who are you?" I mean, who were you *meant* to be? The best version of yourself? The one that matters to the world, the one that's significant, not just successful.
People who don't know their purpose are, often, less happy, it's true. The search for purpose, it can bring up feelings of uncertainty, even fear. They even have a name for the anxiety that comes when you're trying to find your purpose: purpose anxiety.
And sitting down to *plan* to find your purpose? That doesn't always work. And you know, most of us don't find our purpose at the office. If you do, lucky you! But the rest of us? We gotta look elsewhere. As you're looking, think about your intentions.
Like, volunteering at a local charity? Great! But if you're doing it just because you feel responsible, or because it looks good to others, it might not actually fulfill you. Instead, do it for your own reasons. Because it connects to *your* "why," not someone else's. Follow your instincts, not someone else's idea of what you should do. Purpose can show up when you least expect it. But you gotta be open to it. Put yourself in the right places, and something might call to you. "This is why you're here, on this earth, at this moment." Be ready for that call.
Purpose is, like, super personal. What an eighteen-year-old thinks is their purpose is gonna be totally different from what a seventy-five-year-old thinks. The eighteen-year-old? Maybe their purpose is to learn about the world. The grandma? Maybe it's to feel closer to her family.
I was talking to a friend, Meghan, recently. She was having a tough time. She had young kids, a busy job. And her sister-in-law asked her for a favor: Meghan's niece, Molly, was taking a gap year and needed a place to live. Living with her parents wasn't working out.
So, Meghan took her in. It made her life harder, more complicated, for sure. But saying no wasn't an option. Molly had her own car, which helped. She could run errands and see her cousin. But how to get her out of the house?
Meghan gave Molly her number to friends who needed babysitters, dog walkers. She connected her to a soccer program looking for a volunteer coach. Nothing stuck. Until... Meghan introduced her to a group of moms who worked out together.
At first, Molly was, like, mortified. Older, chatty women? Intense workouts? But Meghan kept making her go. And then, a funny thing happened: Molly kept going, even when Meghan couldn't. She found warmth in that group. She was getting stronger, feeling comfortable with these women.
But you know what I found most interesting? It wasn't Molly's change, it was Meghan's! Helping her niece made Meghan thrive too. Seeing Molly blossom brought a sense of purpose to Meghan's life, something she hadn't even realized she was missing.
Her kids were old enough to not need constant care, which was a relief and a sadness. Suddenly, being a surrogate mother to Molly made her realize that her purpose as a mother wasn't over. It was just... different. There were more corners to navigate, and maybe, just maybe, she'd know how.
So, having a purpose, living your purpose... there's a difference. Finding your purpose is key. We can think about ourselves, our past, our future. That gives us the capacity to find purpose. When you don't have a sense of purpose, you can languish. Research shows having a sense of purpose, a strong one, is linked to less stress, more positive emotions, fewer physical problems, better health.
There was this study on resilience in veterans. They found that things like emotional stability, gratitude, altruism, and, you guessed it, purpose in life, were predictors of resilience.
And the benefits just keep going, better mental and physical health, memory, cognition, even better healthcare use and fewer hospital nights.
We want to find meaning because we know we have important work to do. When you find a purpose, you feel alive, you feel like you matter. That reduces the ambiguity of the future. Because you have unfinished business, things to accomplish.
Scientists have been testing models of positive health that include purpose. They see good health as believing there's a plan for your life, and therefore meaning to it.
My friend, Carol Ryff, a psychologist, says that maturity means understanding your life's purpose, having direction, intentionality.
Viktor Frankl, the psychiatrist who survived the Holocaust, said that purpose comes from the will to meaning, the motivation to make our lives meaningful. Do you believe you have something worthy and valuable to give to others?
Ryff thinks purpose is individualistic, all about your goals and direction. As a sociologist, I think it's about how your life affects others. Whether you're useful and constructive to your community. That's why social contribution is key to flourishing, that feeling that you're making a difference.
So, there's having a purpose, and then there's living a life of purpose. I call that "authentic purpose" - the feeling that you have direction combined with contributing to society. Psychological purpose is having a direction and wanting to leave a legacy. Social contribution is actually doing something to make a difference.
Now, the last part of the last century... Social life changed a lot. Marriage, childbirth, divorce, all that stuff became less structured, more about personal choice. Life expectancy increased, which is great. But, ironically, more life means more future to worry about, and the future is always uncertain. Longer lifespans have become a source of concern.
I had a student who thought she had it all figured out, and then life happened, you know? I see it all the time. Kids being groomed for one thing, but their hearts pull them in another direction.
Kari joined my Sociology of Happiness class, and she just lit up! She took all my classes, even became a sociology major. Then, she came to me for advice: where to study abroad? She had an offer from a school in Ireland, studying child behavior. Practical, aligned with her major, her parents were all for it.
Kari grew up with that suburban mindset: good college, good safe job, marriage, kids, planned out life. Her brother was becoming a dentist, and would likely live that life. But something about that safe track wasn't sitting well.
She said she appreciated how tough my class was, how I made everyone look at the world differently. And she was right! So many people think social sciences and happiness are fluffy, but I tried to make my classes rigorous. I wanted my students to take flourishing seriously. She loved my classes because I gave her scientific proof that well-being matters and that we have some control over our fate.
She reminded me of what I'd taught her: "What is life for? It's not just to feel good, right? It's what all of that is in service of? If not growth or experience or increasing well-being?"
I knew she knew how much well-being matters. I asked her about the *other* option, the one she wanted but felt she couldn't choose.
A year earlier, I'd told my students about an upcoming visit from the Dalai Lama. That had inspired her to take a class on him, and then she ended up planning his visit to campus. Her other option? Moving to India to study Tibetan Buddhism and immerse herself in the Dalai Lama's teachings! When she talked about it, she just glowed!
I was careful about what I said. But to me, the choice was clear. I told her it was obvious she wanted to go to India. Why was she afraid? We talked it through, and she said I was right. She really did want to go. She felt like her whole life was leading her there.
She ended up going to India, and, it changed her life.
To this day, Kari is obsessed with how following your passions leads to flourishing. She's writing a book about mindset, well-being, and resilience. I'm so proud of her. The student has become the teacher.
Now, is it ever too late to find your purpose? Research shows that psychological purpose and social contribution decline later in life. People have a sense of direction, but they can't translate it into contributions.
Why is it harder to live your purpose later in life? Society doesn't offer many outlets for older adults to contribute. It's called "structural lag." Longer healthy lifespans haven't been matched by changes in norms and institutions. Society's purpose for older adults - retire, enjoy life, be free - doesn't reflect their search for purpose. We're missing a huge opportunity to benefit from their wisdom and give them opportunities to flourish.
But the problem starts before retirement. Authentic purpose starts declining around fifty-four to sixty-four. Once you're out of school and in the workforce, there's no real institution besides religion that helps you find your purpose. There are life phases, like marriage, career moves, volunteering, that *could* help, but people often don't recognize their social contributions in those phases.
Someone told me about a friend, Tanya, who had a great career in sports television. She traveled everywhere. But it wasn't fulfilling her anymore. She wasn't who she used to be.
Her kids were grown, and she and her husband were thinking about moving to their weekend home. Everything was changing, and she felt like it was time for her to change too. So, at fifty-three, she started a flower business!
Tanya had always loved flowers, her mother had taught her. She loved bringing color and joy with flowers. She'd done it for family and friends, but now she wanted to do it for more people. She started small, but her business grew. She was doing weddings, graduations, restaurant lobbies.
Her greatest joy was being generous to others. Her loved ones had always known that, but she hadn't seen it in herself. That was her purpose: spreading love and sunshine, making moments beautiful. Becoming an empty nester didn't stop her. It forced her to see what made her tick, what her true purpose was. My friend told me that she had always been a stunning, wonderful woman - but now you could see the glow around her from down the block. If you slow down and listen to your heart and figure out how you can help others, you can find your purpose too.
So take advantage of unexpected opportunities to find your glow. Retirement can feel like the end of meaningful challenges. But you can choose to see it as an opportunity to reassess your inner need. Don't focus on finding your own glow. Focus outward, notice how helping others brings out the best in you.
What about young people? Is school helping them find their vocation? Are we launching them into adulthood with a clear purpose?
Yes and no. One study found that one-quarter of youths were working on finding a purpose. One in ten wanted to help others but weren't acting on it. Most middle and high schoolers had no purpose. Only 16 percent had a clear purpose and were acting on it.
By college, four in ten had an authentic purpose. They were acting on it in the arts, community service, spiritual endeavors, and in their families. But more than 40 percent hadn't found their purpose, and weren't even trying.
Studies suggest that if young people are to develop a more prosocial orientation, it is important for adults to be role models. Would you describe your own work in terms of an aspiration to leave some part of the universe a better place?
Parents who describe their work in terms of what they get out of it, rather than how they help, may model a more selfish orientation. Same when parents talk about their children's career dreams.
When a child is passionate about an occupation, talking about how much money they might make may make their orientation more selfish. Get excited about how they could help others, solve a problem, or alleviate suffering in the world.
How do we know if we're seeking purpose or just success at all costs? The Asian American paradox is a great example. Asian Americans have low rates of mental illness, but they're also not flourishing as much. Why?
Asian American families have the highest median income. Higher income usually means better education and higher-status jobs. A sociologist would predict Asian students would have the best mental health outcomes, followed by White, then Latinx, then African American.
But that's not true. Asian American students are languishing more. Why?
Partly it's the "model minority" stereotype, which helps and hinders. The stereotype is that Asian Americans are hardworking, successful academically and occupationally. They have higher GPAs, more participate in gifted programs, and more are admitted to prestigious colleges.
The paradox is also about cultural values. Achievement is emphasized more in Asian cultures. Parents pressure their children to do well academically and choose high-prestige jobs.
Asian American youths feel more pressure to succeed to honor their family. But they often describe their parents' expectations as unachievable. Their abilities and interests aren't always reflected in their parents' career expectations, which push them toward degrees and careers as doctors, lawyers, bankers, engineers, or professionals in the natural sciences. Their relentlessness is the key to success, but, like a double-edged sword, it prevents young people from savoring their accomplishments and feeling good about themselves and the choices they are making as they shape their goals for the future.
Parents' expectations predict the rise in students' unmet expectations for themselves. Numerous studies correlate perfectionism in youths and their perceptions of their parents' influence on their academic behavior. Parental involvement in academic lives has increased greatly, and the rise in this involvement appears to be greater among parents with higher education and higher socioeconomic status. Parents spend less time with their children on play and leisure and more time with them on school activities. The rising cost of college also puts pressure on parents.
All of this can lead to maladaptive perfectionism, very high expectations that are irrational, unrealistic, and punitive. This undermines the well-being that could come from academic achievements.
There's also adaptive, or healthy, perfectionism. You have high standards, you work hard. But you don't beat yourself up over perceived shortcomings. Healthy perfectionists are more self-compassionate.
People who are self-compassionate are more motivated to improve. They believe their weaknesses can be fixed, and they work harder. When their mistakes hurt others, they apologize and make amends. They have humility and realize that everyone is imperfect and struggles. They have lower levels of narcissism and a more stable sense of self-worth.
Effort and persistence are good. But when grit is untethered to self-compassion or a purpose, it may set young people up to suffer without meaning. We could help them by discouraging maladaptive perfectionism and replacing it with adaptive perfectionism, which is all about developing self-compassion.
Viktor Frankl argued that suffering itself isn't the problem. It's suffering without meaning. Maladaptive perfectionism creates high standards and harsh reactions to failure. That's suffering without meaning.
So work hard on your purpose, but go easier on yourself. Be compassionate and curious, and try to be understanding toward yourself as you make mistakes. Self-compassion creates a more balanced life when you have high standards.
The last ingredient of purpose is putting it into action. Adults can help youths by being a role model or supporting them. As a parent, you drive your child to a million activities. How many of those involve helping others? What if you added a prosocial activity to the list?
Once they're doing prosocial activities, young people can act on issues that worry them, like the environment or mental health. By helping solve a problem, they can reflect on larger issues. That can help them clarify their career goals and their prosocial orientation.
So here's an action plan: many people feel that they cannot act on their purpose in life because that purpose requires acquiring knowledge, skills, and a position in society they have not yet achieved. That’s okay. Make a “plan for a purpose.” Making a plan for a purpose in life is not the same as searching for a purpose in life. Searching means that you have no idea of what you want to do to help others or the world. Having a plan for a purpose in life means that you know there is a journey ahead that you must devote yourself to, a program of apprenticeship or learning, in order to get where you need to be.
If young or older people do not have a clear purpose in life, perhaps we are asking them the wrong question. Ask them if they have a plan for a purpose for which, right now, they are developing some skills so they can find a way in which they can be useful or helpful to others or the world around them.
Now, work may not be where you find your significance. One friend of mine was miserable at a mutual fund. He left and joined a startup investing in clean energy. It paid nothing at first, but it captured his attention. Trying to game the markets had felt soulless. This felt like he might be making a difference, even in some small way.
We spend most of our lives at work. Finding purpose in work is essential. Employment is a significant institution in our lives.
Research shows people see work as a job, a career, or a calling. If it's a job, you care about the money and benefits. You'll change jobs for better pay. It's a means to financial security.
If it's a career, you care about prestige and advancement. The increased pay, status, and power bring higher self-esteem. You're more likely to change where you work, not what kind of work you do.
Having a calling means feeling called by a higher power to do morally and socially significant work. Or feeling called to live a spiritual life. You believe your work has special meaning and that you were put on earth to do it. Studies suggest that between 15 and 30 percent of adults view their work as a calling.
The fact is, you'll be lucky if work is where you find your purpose. Scientific data suggests that it's rare for work and purpose to merge.
Why is purpose lacking in the workplace? The job market has shifted to service jobs. They're less stable, with lower wages and fewer benefits, and often part-time. Sociologists have found that people with full-time, secure, higher-wage jobs are more likely to view work as a calling.
Much of the world's economy has shifted toward jobs that are more likely seen as a job or a career, not a calling. This is partly due to the rise of low-level service work being the only opportunity for anybody who does not get sufficient formal education. It is a shift that has been driving the rise of income inequality in this nation, and it will not abate until we find a way to ensure that more people can get a college degree.
But the overall system may be the problem. Democratic capitalism encourages competition, choice, entrepreneurship, and investment. The integrity of for-profit organizations depends on fiduciary fidelity.
However, democratic capitalism can become dominated by "possessive individualism," accumulating capital quickly with minimal concern for the impact on the fiduciary system and democracy.
It is likely to happen when trust in financial institutions and processes is weakened. That happened during the 2007 predatory mortgage lending crisis. When the big banks were bailed out in 2008, people lost trust in financial institutions.
Loss of trust isn't the only problem. Possessive individualism also rises when our confidence in the future is shaken. It rises when our leaders don't seem committed to integrity. Untethering ourselves from ethical and moral guidance is the equivalent of success without any significance.
And then sometimes a purpose found can be a purpose lost. You know?
I was at the height of my career, or so I thought, when I ended up in long-term treatment. I had just been promoted to full professor and then awarded an endowed professorship. As part of the promotion to full professor, I, as is customary, received a semester-long sabbatical. I planned to sit down and write a book on flourishing. Things didn’t go as planned.
Then, a friend of mine was reviewing a draft of a chapter for a book. As soon as she read it, she sent it to me in the hope of giving me, as she called it, a “heads-up.” She didn’t want me to be blindsided or hurt. The book, as it turned out, was to be called Flourishing; the subtitle suggested that the book was introducing a revolutionary new approach. But that upcoming book would be published ten years after my first article had been published in a scientific journal, and I certainly hadn’t stopped writing about the topic in the intervening years; in fact, I had published a great deal since that article.
The book my friend was reviewing introduced a model of flourishing that was remarkably similar to my own in that it combined various kinds of well-being—emotional, psychological, and social. I felt as though I were a balloon, suddenly popped by a sharp pin. I was crushed. My research had long been my highest purpose in my life. If this “revolutionary new approach to flourishing” book was coming out, based on work like mine, perhaps the world no longer needed me.
I had lost my purpose. I decided I was no longer needed. I made alternative plans.
I sat one late afternoon and drank myself into oblivion to prepare myself. I planned to hang myself. That evening, my wife arrived home early from work. She found me alone in the pitch-dark living room, drunk and with tears in my eyes. She was puzzled and asked what was going on. I told her I could no longer “do this.” Every fiber of my being—emotional, psychological, physical, spiritual—was exhausted, used up, gone. I had no interest in refueling my existential tank, either. Besides, I pointed out, the world didn’t need me anymore.
Then she said the four words that saved my life: “But I need you.” I wish I could write a book as powerful for others as those four words were for me.
I told her that if this was going to work, I would need serious help. I knew that one weekly visit to a therapist would not be enough. I needed to address the childhood traumas that I thought I had outrun: the abandonment by my biological mother, physical abuse by my stepmother, neglect by my alcoholic father. I thought I had outsmarted my past, but as it turns out, the past will define you until you face it down. No matter how old you are, how many accomplishments you have, or how many degrees you add to your name, look over your shoulder, and there it is.
I took medical leave and started treatment right away. From the beginning, the treatment team hammered home a very difficult lesson, which was to start small with my goals. But I had spent my entire adult life working toward accomplishing rather large goals. I had no idea how to set small goals anymore. And when they said “Start small,” they meant really small.
We started with meditation. I have long been a yoga-lover who does an hour and a half of yoga several times a week. Twenty minutes of meditation would be a breeze, I told my therapist. No, start with one minute, she told me. One minute of meditation five times a week? That’s…pathetic. They’re crazy, that will not help me, I defiantly told myself.
In my cognitive and behavioral therapy, I had to take notes on my negative emotions and keep track of what caused them and what thoughts came to mind. Keep it simple, I was told. I’m a professor, I thought to myself. I teach my students about cognitive behavioral therapy. I know this stuff already.
Oh, those egos. My ego did not want to submit to being changed. But I did as I was told. So it went with everything in my treatment plan; every time a therapist asked me to start small and keep it simple, I resisted and then relented. Resist, relent, a small step forward. Suddenly weeks had passed. Before I could see it in myself, I had made a huge amount of progress just by taking those small steps.
Others saw the positive changes in me before I could. It was hard work—almost unbelievably hard. But with the help of others, I helped me find a better me. My purpose had gotten lost, but I found it again. This book is the testament that I am once again living my purpose. As I typed those words, “living my purpose,” there were tears in my eyes because I was so close to not being alive, all because I lost my purpose.
So start small, go local. If you need to find a purpose but don't know where to start, start small. Accept that you'll resist changing. Practice the mantra "Resist, relent." If you're taking care of yourself, you'll be able to accept and have compassion for yourself. Then you can start learning and growing.
So let's start small, with three acts of kindness. Kindness helps others. And helping others is part of finding your purpose.
In a study on kindness, participants did three acts of kindness for others, for the world, or for themselves. The control group did nothing.
After four weeks, everyone who did acts of kindness felt more positive. Self-kindness felt as positive as kindness for others or the world.
But self-kindness didn't increase flourishing as much as kindness for others or the world. Selfless acts of kindness do more than make you feel better. They tap into functioning better, making a contribution, increasing your sense of purpose.
Make a list of three things you can do this week that are kind to others or the world. Then make another list for next week, and the week after that.
Set a phone reminder, something like "You promised to do an act of kindness today." Write down the specific acts of kindness you'll do on a Post-it note and put it on your coffeemaker or bathroom mirror.
It's hard to sustain behaviors that you haven't practiced regularly or that aren't connected to a place or group of people to whom you feel a sense of responsibility. The participants in the kindness experiment didn't always do three acts of kindness. They averaged about 2.5 acts per week.
That's why you should set up guardrails. The Post-it notes and phone reminders will keep you honest. Consistency is key, and this might become one of your best habits.
These smaller acts of kindness will have a social impact. The larger sense of purpose, the one at the intersection of personal connection, competence, and social impact, may start to come into view as you weave more gestures of care into your daily life.
As you become more mindful of these opportunities, you'll gain a richer awareness of human experiences and emotions, and of our shared needs for security, dignity, and compassion. That's when random acts of kindness can become the foundation for a more sustained commitment to purposeful action.
Taking on a social role means making an agreement with an institution, a program, or a group. By volunteering, you can change your identity.
It's funny, I used to think that volunteering with an eye toward personal gain was part of a "consumption model" of well-being. But I've changed my tune, you know?
All living things need resources to live. And we aren't wrong to consume. But only to a certain extent.
You can spend your whole life working, and maybe having more than one job at a time, because you don't have enough to get by. You can also spend your whole adult life working despite the fact that you already have more than enough. But most of us believe that there's just a little more happiness at the end of yet another rainbow of a new success, new acquisitions, and further increases in wealth.
We all have money to spend, and we have to decide how best to do so. But we also have a life to spend. If you viewed your life as something you owned, that you could offer to the world, and you knew that by giving it, you would get all the happiness and the flourishing you crave, would you now agree to “spend it all” before you die?
Religious and spiritual texts have been trying to tell us this for millennia—that when we give away good things, such as kindness or forgiveness to others, we will receive the good things we desire: happiness, flourishing, a good life. I suggest that we explore this model more closely—rather than a consumption model, I call this a “contribution model” of well-being. An increased focus on giving, rather than getting, may help humans create a more sustainable approach to happiness and flourishing.
I found that adults who were volunteers were much more likely to be flourishing. They had to have volunteered recently, and it had to happen locally. Volunteering has to be recent, sustained, and part of where we live. It also has to be one of the ways we define ourselves.
Find a cause you believe in, large or small, and contribute in whatever way you can. Donating money is great, but donating your time is going to benefit you, and those you hope to help, even more.
Also, think bigger. Or, more accurately, think smarter. Volunteering at a soup kitchen or a food drive is wonderful, but if for some reason, that isn't an option for you, open your eyes to other opportunities. Your local church or the Parent Teacher Association at your local school needs you, too.
It doesn't need to be an official charity or nonprofit institution. Do you have an elderly neighbor or a friend who is going through a tough time? Maybe you can commit to visiting that neighbor or friend on a weekly basis, bringing groceries, doing some light yard work, providing a lift to a doctor’s appointment, or just lending a kind ear. Maybe you can gather a group of friends on the first Saturday of every month to collect litter in your local woods.
Volunteering doesn't have to be official, stamped in ink, approved by the IRS, or counted by the hour. Real outreach is looking around your community and figuring out someone or something who could use your help, and then diving in and doing it. Try to establish early on what your commitment to the cause, whatever it is, might look like, so that you don’t lose steam. Hopefully, as you feel yourself starting to flourish, this commitment to a cause outside yourself and your closest loved ones will start to feel not only easier but absolutely necessary.
And, you know, nothing in nature lives only for itself.
Purpose is the quality of being determined to achieve an end. It's everywhere, in every particle, cell, compound, and form of energy in the universe. The earth and the laws of nature support life.
There's this quote that is attributed to Pope Francis, he said nothing in nature lives for itself. Rivers don't drink their own water, they give it to us. Trees don't bask in their own shade, they give us sustenance. He ends by saying that it's natural to want to be happy, and it's fine to be happy. But it's better that someone else is happy because of you. We are part of nature, we cannot flourish if we exist only for ourselves.
It's good for you to flourish. It's better when others flourish because of you. That's why it's good to have a purpose, but it's even better to live your purpose.