The Purpose and Meaning of My Life

For a long time, I thought my purpose was to be strong.

To keep going.

To hold it together.

To be reliable, capable, useful.

I learned early that love came when I performed well — when I didn’t cause problems, when I stayed composed, when I didn’t need too much. So I became someone who could endure. Someone who could push. Someone who could survive.

And I did.

I built a life on discipline.

On movement.

On fixing bodies.

On helping others feel better than I felt inside.

From the outside, it looked like purpose.

From the inside, it felt like running.

I chased meaning through effort. Through self-improvement. Through becoming “more.”

Stronger. Fitter. Wiser. Calmer.

But no matter how much I achieved, something stayed unresolved — a quiet sense that I was living beside my life, not inside it.

The truth I didn’t want to face was this:

I was good at helping people move forward, but I hadn’t stopped to ask where I was going.

Burnout didn’t arrive dramatically.

It arrived as numbness.

As a dull ache behind the eyes.

As mornings where motivation vanished but responsibility remained.

I wasn’t broken.

I was disconnected.

Disconnected from my body.

From rest.

From joy without justification.

And eventually, disconnected from myself.

The sea changed that.

Not in a cinematic way.

Not all at once.

But slowly — honestly — relentlessly.

Out on the water, there was nowhere to hide.

No performance.

No audience.

Just wind, tide, breath, and truth.

The sea didn’t care who I had been.

It responded only to presence.

And for the first time, I felt what it was like to be held without expectation.

I realised my purpose was never to push harder.

It was to remember.

To remember what safety feels like in the body.

To remember that stillness is productive.

To remember that life isn’t meant to be endured.

My meaning isn’t found in fixing people.

It’s found in creating spaces where people can stop fixing themselves.

Where they can soften.

Where they can feel again.

Where they can tell the truth — not loudly, but honestly.

Sea Beyond was never a business idea.

It was the shape my healing took.

My purpose is to guide people back to themselves using the same elements that brought me home: movement that listens, coaching that doesn’t rush, and the sea — vast enough to hold everything we carry.

I don’t believe we need to become someone new.

I believe we need the courage to return.

And that is the meaning of my life:

To walk with people to the edge of the noise… and remind them they were never lost — only disconnected.