Living Freely in a Goal-Obsessed World with Anne-Laure Le Cunff
Many people obsess over finding their purpose in life, convinced that if they haven’t found it yet, their days lack meaning. This relentless pursuit fuels anxiety and amplifies uncertainty—but a more flexible, experimental approach might guide us toward genuine fulfillment.
The Process of Finding Your Purpose
What if chasing a single, fixed purpose actually intensifies our anxiety? According to Anne-Laure Le Cunff, the relentless focus on “What am I here to do?” often backfires. We compare ourselves to seemingly gifted peers and wonder why their lives look so clear while ours feel blurry. That comparison cycle only deepens our sense of discontent and undermines authentic exploration.
Instead of declaring one grand purpose, Anne-Laure invites us to think like researchers. In scientific inquiry, you don’t start with rigid expectations. You frame a question—“What might happen if I try urban sketching?”—and collect data through hands-on experiments. You might test learning basic coding in free online courses, volunteering at a local charity, or tinkering with gourmet cooking. Each tiny activity offers feedback on what energizes you and what drains you. Over time, you cultivate curiosity and gather insights without the pressure of immediate success.
Experimentation reframes purpose as an evolving discovery process. You ask, “What can I learn from this?” and treat mistakes as informative data points rather than signs of failure. You might find that a weekend hiking trip sparks new creativity, or that coding exercises unwind your mind in ways you never predicted. The goal is not to land on “the one true purpose” but to curate a portfolio of interests that resonate today—and can evolve tomorrow.
Our Cognitive Relationship to Uncertainty
Humans are notoriously bad at forecasting future preferences. We assume our tastes will follow a neat narrative from who we are today, but our minds and contexts shift over time. A hobby that feels tedious now—say, strength training—might become a source of joy as you build skills and confidence. Yet, uncertainty feels threatening. Our brains evolved to equate the unknown with danger, so we cling to rigid scripts or control rituals to reduce anxiety.
“Humans never genuinely pursue happiness. They only pursue relief from uncertainty. Happiness emerges momentarily as a byproduct whenever uncertainty briefly disappears.”
—Anne-Laure Le Cunff [verify]
Psychology labels these rigid patterns cognitive scripts: the SQL script that insists our next career move “must make sense” on paper; the crowd-pleaser script that prioritizes applause over authenticity; and the Hollywood epic script that demands grand gestures or cosmic legacies. Each script outsources our decision-making to external narratives or approval, providing an illusion of control while stifling genuine self-discovery.
The antidote? Recognize that uncertainty is not your enemy. By labeling your anxieties—“This is me resisting ambiguity”—you can pause habitual responses. Rather than automatically following a script, you ask: What story do I want to write? Which experiments invite real growth, not just external validation? Over time, flexible thinking replaces rigid control, and you reclaim agency over your own life narrative.
The Usefulness of Liminal Spaces
Liminal spaces are those in-between moments—graduating college and awaiting your first job, ending one relationship and not yet starting another, or simply standing in an airport terminal between flights. These thresholds brim with discomfort, but they also swell with opportunity. When you’re neither here nor there, your identity is less fixed and more open to exploration.
Flight delays offer a classic example. Instead of anxiously refreshing the departure board, use the wait to journal, read a chapter in a novel, or simply observe strangers and spark new ideas. Corridor walks between meetings can become two-minute meditation sessions or impromptu brainstorming breaks. Even a daily commute can be reimagined as a liminal block to listen to a podcast on a passion project you’ve been neglecting.
Embracing liminal spaces requires interrupting autopilot. When you notice transitional discomfort—your stomach flutters at the thought of starting a new role—take a deep breath and journal: What do I feel? What questions arise? You might discover hidden interests or unacknowledged aspirations. Training yourself to stay curious, not fearful, in these uncertain thresholds transforms them from anxious voids into powerful launchpads for self-discovery.
Compensatory Control Theory: When Routines Become Shackles
Compensatory control theory explains why we reach for rigid routines when faced with uncertainty. If your workday suddenly shifts from a structured schedule to unpredictable tasks, you might find yourself over-planning every hour, color-coding calendars, and clinging to checklists. That tight grip on routine creates a fleeting sense of control, but these overcompensations can become unsustainable and harmful to mental health.
Imagine someone feeling lost after a layoff. Instead of exploring new fields or experimenting with small side projects, they craft an overly strict daily regimen—wake at 5 a.m., exercise for 90 minutes, cold-plunge, journal, and then only apply to “perfectly aligned” jobs. This hyper-regimented cycle can spiral into guilt and self-judgment if any element falters, fueling a vicious loop of anxiety.
Recognizing compensatory control is the first step. Ask yourself: Am I genuinely enjoying these routines, or am I clinging to them out of fear? When the answer is fear, consider loosening the reins. Introduce variability: swap one detailed plan for a broad intention, or replace a rigid schedule with an evening of unstructured brainstorming. Observe how flexible routines—anchored in purpose rather than control—promote resilience, not burnout.
Understanding Time Anxiety and Creating Chyros
Time anxiety emerges from living in Kronos—the quantitative clock time measured in seconds, minutes, and deadlines. We feel pressured to fill every slot: earn degrees by a certain age, start a business by thirty-five, buy a house by forty. That checklist mindset magnifies anxiety and robs moments of deeper meaning.
The ancient Greeks recognized a second dimension of time: Chyros, or qualitative time. Chyros stretches and contracts, defined by the richness of experience rather than uniform ticking boxes. A long conversation with a friend, a marathon training run, or losing yourself in painting can all warp perceived time—moments of flow that transcend productivity metrics.
To counter time anxiety, deliberately carve out Chyros moments. Schedule a weekly “purpose date” with yourself to do whatever feels most alive—cooking a new recipe, wandering in nature, attending a dance class. Resist the urge to multitask during these periods. Focus on depth: savor the spices in your dish, notice the rhythm of your footsteps, feel the music in your body. Over time, these qualitative pockets of time will replenish your sense of purpose and lessen the tyranny of Kronos.
Dopamine Loops & Our Sleep–Wake Cycles
Dopamine circuits drive us to seek rewards, but they also reinforce habits that can derail our well-being if left unchecked. The morning and evening are especially vulnerable windows.
Morning dopamine loops: Checking your phone first thing floods your brain with unpredictable, variable rewards—likes, new messages, headlines. That surge primes you to chase similar hits all day, amplifying distraction and reducing focus. Instead, delay screen time until your prefrontal cortex is fully alert. Begin with low-dopamine activities: deep breathing, a healthy breakfast, or journaling your top priorities. This sets a calm, purposeful tone and mitigates anxiety-driven phone compulsion.
Nighttime dopamine loops: Screens and social media before bed can fragment sleep architecture, leaving you wired when you need rest most. Your exhausted evening self lacks willpower to resist, so environmental design is key. Charge devices outside the bedroom, replace TV with a paperback, or embrace an analog hobby—puzzles, sketching, or light stretching. By reducing external stimuli and dopamine cues, you prepare your brain’s natural melatonin rhythms for restorative sleep.
Practical Strategies for Tiny Experiments
Turning theory into action often stalls because uncertainty feels scary. Tiny experiments bridge that gap:
- Observation Journal: Spend 24 hours noting activities that energize or drain you. Track mood shifts during work calls, leisure reading, or social media.
- One-Week Micro-Test: Pick a curiosity—urban gardening, podcast hosting, digital art—and devote just 20 minutes daily to it. At week’s end, assess interest and anxiety levels.
- Accountability Partner: Share your experiment plan with a friend and schedule a mid-week check-in. The social dimension provides gentle pressure and motivates follow-through.
- Iteration Cycle: Treat each experiment like A/B testing. If cooking Indian dishes lights you up, tweak the variables—try vegetarian one week, spicy another—to discover what resonates.
- Environment Tweaks: Rearrange your physical or digital workspace to support or discourage certain behaviors. Use a kitchen timer for focused cooking sessions; set desktop reminders for creative breaks.
Each tiny experiment yields data points that inform your next move. Over time, you’ll accumulate a map of interests, preferences, and growth areas—your personalized, evolving purpose portfolio.
Conclusion
The quest for a single “purpose” in a goal-obsessed world often breeds more anxiety and control dramas than genuine fulfillment. By treating life as a series of tiny experiments, embracing uncertainty, and carving Chyros moments, we turn our aimless pursuit into an ongoing adventure of self-discovery.
Bold actionable takeaway:
Run a seven-day mini experiment exploring a new interest—track your energy, curiosity, and anxiety each day in a simple journal to uncover what truly resonates.