What Do You Do With a Yearning?

One practice has quietly shaped some of the biggest decisions of my life.

I pay attention to my yearnings.

Not just my goals or my plans, but the quieter voice underneath them. The longing. The curiosity. The feeling that something keeps gently calling my name.

Over the years, I've learned that these yearnings are not distractions. They are often clues leading me back to my authentic self.

We live in a world full of advice. Everywhere we turn, someone is telling us what we should want, what success should look like, or what the next step should be. There is wisdom in learning from others. There is also wisdom that can only come from within.

Building a purposeful life requires balancing both. We can learn from the world while also honoring our own inner voice.

That inner voice often speaks through our emotions, our curiosity, and our longings.

When I notice a yearning, I don't try to silence it or immediately solve it. Instead, I try to make space for it.

I slow down.

I spend time in silence.

I go for walks.

I sit by the lake.

I journal.

I simply ask, "What are you trying to tell me?"

Sometimes the answer comes quickly. More often, it unfolds little by little.

Many of my biggest dreams have begun this way.

There were dreams I once thought were unrealistic or even silly. Yet they kept returning. No matter how busy life became, they quietly waited for my attention.

I've learned that when something keeps coming back, it's worth listening to.

That doesn't mean I have to pursue everything all at once. Life has seasons, responsibilities, and limitations.

Instead, I ask myself, "What small step can I take with what I have right now?"

That question has changed everything.

Recently, I've noticed several yearnings showing up again.

I've been longing for deeper, more authentic connections with people who inspire and challenge me. I've wanted to spend more time serving alongside others who care deeply about helping people flourish.

I've also felt a growing curiosity about human psychology and the healing process. That longing eventually led me to apply for a master's program in counseling, because I wanted to deepen my understanding and become an even better coach.

Another yearning keeps returning as well.

I want to write.

Not just articles or social media posts, but books. I want to create meaningful frameworks, coaching tools, and programs that help people come home to themselves. I want to organize what I've learned through years of coaching, teaching, research, and my own life experiences into something that can continue serving others long after our conversations end.

Each of these longings points toward the next chapter of my purpose.

None of them appeared overnight. They emerged slowly, through quiet moments of reflection.

This is one of the reasons I created my Purpose Path coaching program.

People often come to me saying they feel stuck or uncertain. They have dozens of ideas, interests, and possibilities, but they don't know which one to pursue first.

The goal isn't simply to find the "right" answer.

It's to create enough space to hear yourself again.

Once we begin listening, we can gather those scattered ideas, recognize the patterns, and organize them into a meaningful direction. We can decide what belongs in this season of life and what can wait for another.

Purpose doesn't usually arrive as a lightning bolt.

More often, it whispers.

Sometimes what feels like restlessness isn't a sign that something is wrong.

Sometimes it's a sign that you finally have enough space to hear what has been waiting for your attention.

If you've been feeling a quiet sense of longing lately, don't rush to make it disappear.

Become curious.

Find a place where you feel peaceful. Maybe that's your favorite chair, a hiking trail, a coffee shop, your garden, or a walk around your neighborhood.

Bring a notebook.

Ask yourself:

What keeps calling my attention?

What dream keeps coming back?

What have I been quietly wishing I had more time for?

What part of me is asking to grow?

Write without judging yourself. Don't worry about whether the ideas are practical yet. Simply notice them.

Over time, you'll begin to see patterns.

Those patterns become direction.

Direction becomes purpose.

And purpose isn't something you discover once and for all.

It's something you practice by continually returning home to yourself, listening deeply, and taking one small, courageous step at a time.

Your yearning may not be asking you to change your entire life tomorrow.

It may simply be inviting you to take the next faithful step.

And often, that's exactly where a purposeful life begins.