On Purpose (as in the topic of purpose. Not like, the phrase "on purpose" in the sense of "he tripped me on purpose")

I find myself perplexed at the preoccupation with one’s purpose.

I think when humans speak of purpose we are usually getting at one or both of two ideas.

The first is how something is currently (maybe right this very moment, or perhaps recently and up until now and continuing into the foreseeable future) being used. I wouldn’t speak of the purpose of a rock up until I take it home and use it to hold open my door. Then its purpose is to hold open my door. I might say at that point that it is a rock AND a door stop.

The second is something’s design (what did the person who made this thing have in mind when they made it? How did they imagine it being used? What was the goal of their efforts? Presumably the person designing a microwave - the plan for one at least, not necessarily this microwave - had a goal of making a device that could heat food up) or perhaps something’s intended function (and intentions can supplant each other, or perhaps overlap. A number of medications were supposed to do one thing but were later discovered to have other uses, and at that point we might say the intended function of the medication is that new purpose). And of course how something is in fact used might be quite different from what it was designed for (I can use a microwave to hold open my door. And so I might say it is both a microwave - with respect to its design or originally intended function - and a door stop with respect to how it is currently being used.)

I’m not sure which of these two senses folks are preoccupying themselves with they worry about their purpose.

If the first sense then, how you’re being used varies a lot. We try and not use that language, but it must be said that we do it nevertheless. When I asked my friends to help me move recently I used them to load a moving van, and I am very grateful. When the lady at the grocery store asked me to get a can off a high shelf she used me to get food down from a high shelf. We are constantly being used by our bosses. When I was a warehouse worker the owners of the company I worked for used me to load trucks. In that sense my purpose was to load trucks. Many people’s purposes are to make complicated coffee drinks, or to drive trucks, or to pilot airplanes.

Do we necessarily give a shit about this? I mean you might, and I’m not here to take that from you, but I’ve never cared a lot about the purposes my bosses use me for. Perhaps If I was a heart surgeon or something. But at that point it must be said that the caring probably has little to do with the fact that the bosses want me to be doing heart surgery and more about the whole “saving lives” bit. Which I think gives away the fact that we probably have some kind of innate evolved inclination to serve a function in the context of a community, to provide something of value to our community. We don’t necessarily mind being used by the community, as it were. I don't mind being used by my friends when they ask me for favors. Few of us are eager to be used by our bosses. In this sense however one needn’t wonder what one’s purpose is: you know if in fact you volunteer at a soup kitchen. You might be searching for purpose then, but you wouldn’t be wondering what it is.

In the second sense, this will basically come down to your theistic or spiritual or metaphysical beliefs. These are the questions of what God designed you for, or what the universe intends for you. You will have to investigate those on your own. It should be said of course that I think what you really are interested in is how you can be happy, or at peace. After all, if your purpose sucked, and you hated it, you wouldn’t care. So in this sense “what is my purpose?” is downstream of “how can I be happy?”