Every Thursday morning, something taps me on the shoulder.
It arrives carrying ideas, inspiration, and a strange sense of purpose.
And thanks to it, these emails exist.
For a long time, I thought it was creativity.
But recently, I've started wondering if it's something else…
My Calling.
What's strange is that it never approaches me head-on.
It always seems to arrive from behind.
And the more I sit with that idea, the more I realized I’ve been looking at my calling all wrong.
We often imagine a calling as something waiting in the future.
A revelation. A lightning strike. A moment of clarity.
So we keep squinting at the distance. Waiting for a signal from the future. Searching for something different.
Different careers. Different identities. Different ambitions. Different cities. Different versions of ourselves.
Certain that one day we'll finally discover the thing we were meant to do.
But recently I've been toying with a different possibility…
What if a calling doesn't come from in front of us?
What if it comes from behind?
What if our calling is less like a destination and more like a trail of footprints?
Evidence of where we've already been. Evidence of where life has been quietly pulling us all along.
A footprint in a half-filled journal.
A strange obsession that followed us through every season of life.
A conversation that somehow lasted for hours.
A problem people keep bringing to us to solve.
A type of work that makes us forget to check the clock.
All footprints…
But we overlook these footprints because they don't feel extraordinary.
They usually feel painfully easy and effortless.
And that's exactly the problem.
When something comes naturally to us, we assume it isn't valuable.
And so over time, we become numb to our own gifts.
We reduce it with the word “just.”
"I'm just good with people."
"I just notice patterns."
"I just explain things well."
"I just make people feel comfortable."
"I just get obsessed with ideas."
"I just understand how artists think."
But just as a fish doesn't notice water, humans rarely notice the thing they operate inside of every day.
Pianists don't realize how strange it is to hear emotion inside sounds.
Entrepreneurs don't realize instinctively seeing systems and opportunities everywhere isn’t normal intuition.
Artists don't realize most people stopped noticing beauty years ago.
Writers don't realize most people aren't constantly collecting ideas from every conversation.
The thing that feels most ordinary to you is often the thing that feels most remarkable to everyone else.
And maybe that is why our calling feels so mysterious.
Because it’s not hidden. It’s been standing in the place we never thought to look…
Behind us.
In the footprints we've already left.
In the projects we couldn't stop working on.
In the themes that keep resurfacing.
In the questions we've spent years asking.
In the pains that keep breaking our hearts.
In the people who keep finding their way back.
In the things we've done for free.
In the moments that made us lose track of time.
Yes, the future still holds so many beautiful surprises.
But maybe your calling isn't waiting for you there.
Maybe it has been walking behind you.
Trying to introduce itself to you your entire life.
Patiently leaving clues.
Patiently tapping you on the shoulder.
Patiently asking the same question over and over again…
“Will you finally embrace who you've been all along?”
Stay creative,
