The Why

We often talk about work as the thing we do to earn a living... the profession we list on a form, the business we build or the title printed beneath our name. We measure it in hours, accomplishments and income. When we ask one another, “What do you do?” we usually expect an answer that fits neatly into a sentence.

The Beauty of Choice

Someone once asked my son what I do for work. His answer was simple: “Whatever she wants to.”

I laughed when I first heard it, but the more I thought about his answer, the more meaningful it became. In many ways, he was right. I get to choose work that brings me joy and, hopefully, creates joy for the people with whom I share it. There is tremendous beauty in that choice.

I do not say this to boast. I say it with a genuinely grateful heart because I know what a blessing it is to shape my days around work that enriches my life rather than merely filling my time. Life has not always been easy, and the path that brought me here was certainly not straight. There have been seasons shaped by responsibility, loss, uncertainty and simply doing what needed to be done. Perhaps that is why I no longer take the freedom to choose... or the life surrounding that work... for granted.

Lately, I have been considering the question beneath my son’s answer: Why do we do the work we do?

Work That Cannot Be Measured

Certainly, we work because there are bills to pay and responsibilities to meet. Money is necessary. It provides security, creates opportunities and helps us care for ourselves and the people we love. But I believe some work feeds something within us that money cannot measure.

Meaningful work makes us curious. It gives us a reason to pay closer attention. It brings us into rooms we might never have entered and introduces us to people whose stories become woven into our own. It carries us to new places, creates experiences and gives us something meaningful to share. The work changes us while we are doing it.

Sometimes that work takes the form of art. Art allows us to express what cannot always be easily explained. It can preserve a memory, hold a story or give form to something we have carried silently within us. It creates a place where another person can recognize a piece of their own story and feel less alone. At its best, art helps people feel seen, held and heard. It reminds us that something does not have to be loud or practical to be meaningful.

Sometimes the greatest reward is not what we produce or earn. It is the person we meet along the way, the conversation that lingers long after it ends or the moment someone feels seen because something we offered reached them at just the right time. It is collaborating with a creative friend to make the most thoughtful gift we can imagine for someone who is grieving. The finished gift matters, but so does the love held within it... the desire to help a hurting friend feel remembered and cared for.

The Substance of a Life

The richness of this life is also found in moments that have little to do with what we traditionally call work. It is encountering a 91-year-old Marine and his dog while walking a trail and pausing long enough for our paths and stories to meet. It is having coffee with a friend at our favorite coffee shop, sharing a meal with people I love or receiving a message from the friend who thinks of me whenever the moon is full or something beautiful is happening in the sky.

It is having a supportive family and partner who make room for who I am and who I am still becoming. It is the love of a church family and the comfort of knowing I have praying friends. It is my five-year-old great-niece running toward me and wrapping me in a hug every single time she sees me. She does not care what I have accomplished, what I have earned or what I managed to cross off my list that day. She is simply happy that I am there.

And at the end of the day, wealth can be as quiet as stepping outside and listening to the sound of night settling around me.

These moments may not look significant on a ledger, but they are the substance of a life.

The Work of Loving Well

Not all important work happens within a profession. Some of the most meaningful work we will ever do happens within our relationships. It is the work of showing up... of listening, forgiving, encouraging, praying and making room for one another. It is sitting beside someone when there are no words that can make things better. It is tending our friendships, our families and the love we have been given. It is helping the people who cross our paths know they are seen.

Some family members are given to us through blood, history and shared beginnings. Others enter our lives along the way and become family through choice. They are the people who stand beside us through changing seasons, celebrate what is being born in us and help carry us when life becomes too heavy to hold alone.

A Different Measure of Wealth

When I think about wealth, this is what I see: I do not measure it only in dollar signs, bank accounts or possessions. A bank statement may tell me what I have accumulated, but it cannot measure the quality of the life I have been blessed to live.

My wealth is found in the people with whom I share this life, the places our paths take us and the experiences we create together. It is found in unexpected conversations, familiar tables, shared meals, open doors, prayers spoken on my behalf and arms that are always happy to welcome me. It is being present enough to recognize, This is one of the good days.

My wealth is also found in the path I get to walk. It is the freedom to remain curious about where that path may lead next and the ability to choose work that brings joy, meaning and connection into my life and the lives of those who share it with me. I do not take that freedom for granted. The work itself matters, but so do the people it brings into my life, the places it carries me and the experiences that unfold because I was willing to follow where it led.

Perhaps that is why we do the work we do... not simply to make a living, but to make a life. A life filled with meaning, rich in connection and open to the beauty around us. A life in which we remain present to one another and recognize the blessing of being here together.

At the end of my life, I do not believe I will measure my wealth by how much I accumulated. I will measure it by the love that moved through my days, the lives that touched mine, the moments I was awake enough to notice and the people who shared the journey with me.

The Why Beneath It All

So when my son says that I do “whatever I want to,” I receive his answer with humility and a grateful heart. I get to choose work that brings joy, and I get to share that joy with others.

I am grateful for this life. I am grateful for the path I get to walk. And I am grateful to finally understand that my why is not a title, product or accomplishment.

My why is to live awake, love people well and create meaning from the moments we share... so that, in whatever way our paths cross, people might know they are valued, feel held and be given the space to be truly heard.

By that measure, I am wealthy indeed.