When The Light Goes Out
Thoughts on losing your sense of purpose and the journey to find it again.
“Not until we are lost, do we begin to understand ourselves”
In the words of Henry David Thoreau
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the energy I used to feel and how that light seems to have been extinguished.
At first, the flame burned with intensity, but over time the light began to diminish until, one day, it sputtered and went out. I continue to get up, going through the motions, showing up where and how I’m “supposed” to. But, at the core, I feel like a spent well of wax at the bottom of an old candle that doesn’t light up anymore.
Quiet Inventory
I find myself trying to trace its origin. Did it start with one sharp disappointment? Or the slow ache of losing pieces of a life I thought would last —people, places, foundations that once made me feel grounded and whole? Was it all the tiny compromises I made trying to be what others expected? Or maybe it was the combination of multiple actions and events.
I’ve been here before but somehow, this time it feels heavier and (possibly) more permanent.
I can still remember a time when I felt a sense of purpose and woke up feeling excited about the day ahead. But now, I’m something closer to numb. The days just “are”—no sparkle, no warmth, no color. And honestly, I really miss feeling energized and connected—like someone with direction, someone making an impact.
You see people who seem to smile effortlessly, who meet life with vim and vigor, and you wonder “why can’t I do the same?”. You start questioning yourself. You think, “Am I lazy, ungrateful, or just stuck?”. You scroll through old photos and revisit memories, wondering “Who was that person? How did I seem so alive?”.
Losing your purpose is a strange kind of sadness. It hovers like the clouds on a stormy day, making everything feel hazy and distant.
The Hidden Layer
As I sit with these thoughts, I’m starting to think “Maybe the candle hasn’t gone out for good. Maybe it can be relit.”. I’m realizing that when you’re running on empty and trying to live up to everyone’s expectations, life gets heavy. That weight eventually snuffs out your flame. Maybe it’s your soul’s way of saying: ‘Stop pushing so hard; just breathe again.‘ Maybe it’s a signal that you’re overdue for rest, or even rewrite of this chapter of life. Maybe you just need to reevaluate what your why is in this moment.
I’ll be honest, realizing that the version of life that once felt right doesn’t fit anymore is hard to accept. But, maybe that’s how we uncover the wick buried beneath the wax and ash.
Trimming the Wick
The truth is, I’m still figuring it out. Writing this post helped clear away some of the debris. Now that some of that weight has lifted, taking time to focus on simple, small acts of care feels right. Not a structured plan, but a promise to show up for myself each day.
Some days that might mean evening meditations to clear my racing mind. Other days it might be slowly enjoying my morning coffee, freewriting without censorship or listening to music that makes me smile. And sometimes it might simply be allowing myself to just feel the “feels” without judgement.
Small, simple acts that I hope will slowly clear away the mental gunk, leaving space for me to reflect, rediscover myself and uncover the “why” that resonates with me.
I’m not there yet, but I’m starting to believe my purpose can be reignited in time. And maybe that’s enough for now.
Starting today, as one of my small acts, I’m reading this affirmation each morning. I hope it might be an anchor for you, too:
I give myself permission to explore what brings light to my heart and to trust that each small act will create a spark that ignites my internal flame.
If you’re currently in a similar space, what’s one small act that feels right for you?