What Is Your Purpose? — Issue #14: Shellie Vandersluis
When purpose stops being a goal and becomes a way of living
Hello everyone, and welcome to the last issue of What Is Your Purpose? for 2025.
This has been an amazing year.
When I started this series, I honestly had low expectations. In a world that rewards speed and short-form content, I wasn’t sure if writing about purpose — something slower, deeper, and more reflective — would resonate.
I knew the topic could be impactful. But I didn’t know if people would actually want to read about it… or even more, write about it.
And yet, my surprise has been incredible. The response has gone far beyond what I imagined.
People have felt seen.
They’ve felt understood.
Not only the authors who have shared their stories across these 14 issues, but also readers — people like you — who found pieces of themselves in those words.
That’s what makes this community special.
We’re all different, but at the core, we share the same struggles: the same questions about meaning, growth, and direction. Through this series, I’ve learned as much from others’ reflections as from my own. I’ve re-examined my own idea of purpose, and in the process, I’ve also helped a few others do the same.
If you’ve been following this journey, I truly hope it’s helped you pause and reflect on your own purpose, and maybe even on your own discipline.
As you’ll see in the closing, I’m opening a call for authors for the 2026 season of What Is Your Purpose?
If you’ve ever felt the pull to share your story, stay tuned, or just comment PURPOSE below and I’ll reach out with the details. I’d love to read your voice in next year’s lineup.
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Now, back to today’s guest.
This week’s author is someone who’s been part of this journey almost from the beginning. Like many of the connections I’ve made through this platform, our paths first crossed online. Since then, she’s become a genuine friend and a steady source of encouragement.
She was actually my first paid subscriber, a gesture that meant a lot to me. It showed me that someone outside of family or close friends saw value in what I was creating. That single moment gave me the push to keep going and to pour even more intention into this work.
Today’s author is Shellie Vandersluis, writer of the newsletter File Under Maybe, where she explores the space between what we know and what we’re still figuring out. Her essays dive into the process of becoming better. The thoughtful, sometimes messy pursuit of honing one’s craft.
In this issue, Shellie reflects on her idea of purpose: how it’s evolved, what it looks like today, and how she’s bringing it into her life.
I won’t give too much away; I’d rather let her tell you herself.
So, without further ado, please welcome
.When Purpose Becomes Practice
by Shellie Vandersluis
A student once ran up to me with a book in his hand. It was the same one I had given him months earlier, when I was volunteering as a reader in his classroom. And he told me he still carried it with him. To him, the book wasn’t just paper and ink. It was a piece of possibility he could hold onto.
That moment has stayed with me. It reminded me how powerful learning can be, and how access to even the smallest resource can shape the way someone sees their future. It’s one of the reasons I couldn’t walk away when the organization I had been volunteering with stopped donating books to schools. I decided to keep the work going because I couldn’t imagine classrooms without those opportunities. And it wasn’t the first time I felt that pull, volunteering has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. It’s about noticing a need and asking if I can help.
That memory continues to guide me. My purpose has been finding ways to ensure that students of all ages have what they need to keep learning. Sometimes that means books in the hands of children. Sometimes it means helping high schoolers believe they have options. And sometimes it’s sitting with adults who are trying to learn new skills or rebuild confidence later in life. I don’t want anyone’s circumstances to be the thing that defines their future.
It wasn’t always this clear to me. In my twenties, I thought purpose was about more. I chased achievement, earned certifications, and checked every box I thought I was supposed to. On paper, it looked like progress. Inside, it felt hollow. I was doing things to meet expectations rather than to live my own values.
Long before that, as a teenager, I went through a period when I didn’t have a home or much support to fall back on. I know what it feels like to rely on the kindness of others. Those experiences never left me. It taught me that the smallest act of care can make a lasting difference, and it’s one of the reasons I keep showing up for others now.
What brings me back was remembering that student… his face, his pride in holding onto that book, his sense that it mattered and that he mattered. I realized titles and certificates only mean something if they serve a deeper purpose. That shift grounded me again, not just in the work I do but in how I try to live.
Purpose shows up in daily choices. Protecting time for my family. Saying no when a commitment doesn’t align with my values. Keeping routines that help me stay steady, whether that’s posting essays online, taking Pilates, or playing with my Pomeranian. Even my project management skills come into play, giving me a framework to stay disciplined without losing sight of what matters.
For me, purpose is less about one big moment of clarity and more about a practice. It’s something I return to again and again. I try to ask myself: does this help? Does it make things a little easier, a little more possible, for someone else? If the answer is yes, I know I’m on the right track.
Purpose is rarely fixed. It bends and shifts with time, but it also deepens. Mine has grown from chasing achievement to creating impact, from collecting credentials to building connections. At its core, it’s about making sure that learning remains possible… for children, teenagers, and adults alike. That conviction comes from years of volunteering and showing up in my community, not because I was told to, but because I believe we all do better when we make things possible for one another. That’s the thread running through everything I do, the same one that started with a student and a single book.
Shellie Vandersluis is a doctoral student and consultant who has spent most of her life as an active volunteer in her community. Her purpose is rooted in making learning possible for people of all ages, shaped in part by her own experiences of relying on the kindness of others as a teenager. She writes about resilience, education, and finding practical ways to help, often with her Pomeranian, Josie, close by.
Thank you, Shellie, for sharing your words and perspective with us.
The idea behind this series has always been simple: everyone has a different relationship with purpose.
Even if we use the same word, what we mean, and how we live it, can be profoundly different.
Some people see purpose as something to find: a revelation, an epiphany that appears one day and defines the rest of their lives.
Others, often through experience, learn that purpose is something you build: something that grows through action, evolves with time, and adapts as life unfolds.
Shellie’s story reflects that beautifully. She began with the idea of a tangible purpose — achievements, certifications, milestones — shaped her own expectations. Most of us have walked that same path at some point, chasing what we think we’re supposed to want.
But as Shellie’s journey shows, the search for meaning shifts once we realize that the material and visible outcomes don’t always align with the values that truly sustain us.
We live surrounded by projections of happiness and success. Social media can amplify that illusion, making it harder to ask the real questions:
What do I actually stand for?
What do I believe in?
What am I pursuing beyond the visible?
And that’s the core of this reflection.
Purpose isn’t about grand futures we can’t yet see; it’s about the small, silent choices that express who we are.
You can find purpose and discipline in the smallest of moments: holding your tongue during an argument, finishing something you said you would, or simply choosing to act in line with your principles.
That’s what I mean when I talk about realignment.
Discipline, when anchored in purpose, is not about control or rigidity. It’s about returning — over and over — to what matters most.
Every time we root our actions in our principles and values, we practice discipline. Even when it’s imperfect.
Especially when it’s imperfect.
So, as an invitation:
Reflect on what discipline and purpose mean to you.
Are they distant goals you’re waiting to reach?
Or are they already present in the micro: in the small acts that shape your days?
Also, as you may know, this is the last issue of What Is Your Purpose? for 2025.
I’m opening a call for authors for the 2026 season.
If you’d like to be part of it, whether you write essays, reflections, or simply have a story worth telling, comment PURPOSE below, and I’ll DM you the details.
In my next Paid Companion, I’ll share a training to help you notice when you’ve drifted from your values and how to return to them with clarity and calm.
Tell me in the comments:
👉 What is discipline for you: the micro or the macro?
Have a wonderful week!
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Thank you so much for including me, Camilo. This series has been such a meaningful space to reflect, learn, and connect. I’m really grateful to be part of it.