When Meaning Takes Shape: Purpose, Clarity, and the Process of Becoming

After sharing my recent blog on meaning and purpose in veterinary medicine, I received many responses from you. A few simply said, “This really made me think.”

Those responses tell me this isn’t an abstract topic. It’s alive. And for many veterinarians, it feels like unfinished business.

In my previous blog, I described meaning and purpose as practical anchors rather than abstract ideals. Meaning is the story you tell yourself about why your work matters. Purpose is the direction you are walking, what you are trying to become, and the goals that pull you forward.

Meaning and purpose aren’t things we solve once and move on from. They return at different stages of our careers, often when something quietly shifts. When the work that once energized us begins to feel heavier. When we’re capable, busy, and outwardly successful, yet inwardly wondering, “Is this still aligned with who I am becoming?”

Viktor Frankl wrote, “Life is never made unbearable by circumstances, but only by lack of meaning and purpose.” He came to this understanding through unimaginable suffering, yet his insight applies powerfully to veterinary life. Many of the veterinarians I work with aren’t overwhelmed because they don’t care. They’re overwhelmed because they care deeply, and somewhere along the way the meaning that once sustained them has become blurred.

Veterinary medicine trains us to respond. To need. To urgency. To responsibility. But it rarely gives us permission to step back and ask a different question: What is life asking of me now, in this season, beyond simply getting through the day?

In coaching, one of the questions I return to often is this:

Given where you are right now, what feels most important for you to be working toward? Not forever. Not as a five-year plan. Just now.

Purpose isn’t something assigned to you by your degree, your employer, or your past choices. Purpose is the direction you choose when you’re no longer just reacting.

I often invite people to notice this not as an idea, but as a felt sense. When you imagine working toward something that truly matters to you right now, does your body soften or tense? Does your breathing change?

Purpose often shows up first not as clarity, but as a quiet sense of rightness or discomfort that tells you something important is trying to get your attention.

When I ask a veterinarian, “What do you think your chosen purpose is right now?” there’s often a long pause.

I might follow with, “If no one was judging the answer, what would you say?” Or, “What used to drive you, and does that still fit?” Or, “What is pulling you forward?”

One client said, “I think my purpose used to be proving myself. Being competent. Being needed.” After a moment, she added, “That doesn’t feel big enough anymore.”

That realization wasn’t a problem to fix. It was a doorway.

Building a Bigger Future

Dan Sullivan reminds us that “the purpose of life is to grow.” Not to grind. Not to endure. To grow. Under chronic stress, our world gets smaller. Many veterinarians and professionals live inside very short time horizons: the next appointment, the next shift, the next month.

Reconnecting with meaning often begins by gently expanding that horizon again.

In coaching, I might ask, “If things were going reasonably well, not perfect, what would be different?” Or, “What are you tolerating right now that doesn’t belong in your future?”

These questions aren’t about quitting your job or reinventing everything overnight. They’re about clarity. And clarity has a way of changing what you’re willing to accept and what you’re willing to imagine.

What often gets missed is that clarity does not arrive to give us answers. It arrives to bring us back into the process.

Arthur Brooks suggests that meaning does not come from getting life right, but from staying engaged in the process and finding fulfillment in the journey itself. From making sense of where you are - moving toward what matters with small, and imperfect action steps, and showing up in ways that count.

When the process matters, meaning stops being something you chase and becomes something you live. 

It’s also worth pausing to notice what happens after moments like this. Many of us read something that resonates, feel a sense of understanding, and then return to our days unchanged. There’s nothing wrong with that, but over time it can quietly keep us stuck. When reflection stays purely internal, it can comfort us without actually moving us forward.

Process asks something slightly different. It asks to be practiced, even in small ways.

Awareness doesn’t usually demand immediate change, but it does invite a quieter kind of courage. The kind that allows you to acknowledge what’s no longer working and to imagine something more fitting, even before you know exactly how to get there.

How Coaching Supports Clarity and Courage

Coaching offers something rare: protected space to think out loud without being fixed, judged, or rushed.

It’s a place to separate what you’ve been trained to do from who you’re becoming. To explore values, fears, and possibilities in a grounded, practical way that still honours real professional life.

Clarity rarely arrives as a lightning bolt. More often, it shows up as a sentence that feels true. A boundary that finally makes sense. A future image that feels both hopeful and slightly uncomfortable.

If the earlier blog stirred something in you - you’re not behind or broken. You’re paying attention. And that matters.

A Few Reflections to sit with:

What do you feel life is asking of you right now, beyond coping?

If you could choose your purpose freely in this season, what might it be?

What would a slightly bigger future look like, one that allows you to grow?

If your future self were guiding you, what process would you commit to practicing in this season?

What small act of courage could you take in the next month in service of that future?

If this reflection feels like it’s touched something that’s still forming, consider this an invitation to pause and stay curious. Many of you I’ve had the privilege of working with before, and I know how helpful it can be to revisit these questions as life and career continue to shift.

If you feel drawn to continue the conversation, whether to reflect, clarify, or simply think out loud - I’m always glad to reconnect.

I look forward to hearing what feels most important for you to be working toward now.

Dr. Bill