I used to think that finding purpose meant sitting under a tree waiting for the universe to whisper. But most of us don’t need a whisper, we need a jolt. Something that wakes us up. Something that says: this life is too short to sit it out.

 

We wait for purpose to arrive like a parcel. But what if it’s not a delivery? What if it’s a doorbell we have to answer?

In The Stoic Rider, the chapter “Answer the Call” isn’t just a philosophical nod. It’s a dare. A nudge. A truth most of us have already sensed; that the moments that matter most are not always planned. They’re felt. Deep in the gut. Purpose doesn’t come with a plan. It comes with a pulse.

 

Purpose Isn’t Always Loud. But It’s Always Honest.

I didn’t grow up dreaming of breaking land speed records or guiding people through the Pyrenees on motorcycles. I didn’t sketch out a neat five-year plan that ended with a book, or a brand, or a story to tell. Instead, I followed the breadcrumb trail of what lit me up. Sometimes reluctantly. Sometimes shakily. But always honestly.

 

The first ‘yes’ was terrifying. I got the opportunity to ride a custom bike at Bonneville. I hadn’t even ridden a sportsbike at that point in time and was still tentative at motorway speeds. But something in me stirred – not fear, not excitement, exactly – but recognition. As if a wiser part of me already knew: this is your call. Say yes.

 

It wasn’t a rational decision. But it was a right one.

 

The Body Knows Before the Brain Does

In her work on personal transformation, Martha Beck talks about how our bodies are compasses. When we move towards something that aligns with our truth, we feel a lightening, a sense of expansion. When we move away from it, we feel tight, heavy, closed.

This has been true for every meaningful moment of my life. The decisions that felt ‘crazy’ on paper – quitting things, starting others, saying yes to wild ideas – were the ones that made me feel most me.

 

When we ignore these nudges, we don’t just miss out on experiences. We lose touch with ourselves. The longer we ignore the call, the harder it becomes to hear it.

 

Courage is the Cost of Living Aligned

The call doesn’t come with guarantees. It comes with risk. With doubt. With moments where your hands shake and your head says, “You’ve really done it this time.”

 

But the Stoics weren’t interested in comfort. They believed in virtue in action, that means showing up, even when the outcome is unclear. In saying yes to what aligns with your principles, not your plans.

 

Sometimes the call sounds like, “Take the trip.”

 

Sometimes it’s, “Write the book.”

 

Sometimes it’s just, “Be brave enough to change.”

 

But always, it’s this: Step into the life that is truly yours.

 

Meaning Is Created in the Sharing

I’ve stood on the salt flats and felt invincible. I’ve also sat in a campsite wondering what the hell I’m doing with my life. Both belong. Both are sacred.

But here’s what I’ve learned: purpose expands when you share it. When you speak. When you help. When you tell the truth about what it costs to live a meaningful life and how worth it it really is.

 

That’s why I wrote The Stoic Rider. Not because I had it all figured out. But because I couldn’t not share what I’d learned on the road; about courage, community, and living on purpose.

 

So if you’re waiting for a sign to start, here it is. This is your call.

 

And I promise: the road is better when you answer it.