The Engine of Purpose

Purpose is one of those ideas we all chase but rarely define. For me, it’s not about a title or a destination; it’s about what lights your fire and how you use it to contribute to the world. But purpose isn’t handed to you—it’s discovered, often painfully, through the experiences that shape you. For me, that discovery started at home.

A Home Filled with Music

My dad wasn’t a professional musician, but when he played piano, you wouldn’t know it. He was a classical pianist by passion and a dentist by trade. After work, he’d sit at the piano and lose himself in the music of Bach, Chopin, and Beethoven. As a kid, I’d sneak out of bed just to watch him. His shoulders would relax, his eyes wouldclose, and for a little while, he wasn’t a dentist or a provider—hewas just himself. Even as a child, I saw how music lifted him, pulled him out of the stress of the day, and transported him somewhere deeper. It was the first time I truly saw the power of music.But there was a sadness in his playing, an unspoken longing. One night, I asked, “Dad, why didn’t you become a professional musician?” He paused, then said, “I have a business, a family. It’s too late to change course now.” I didn’t fully understand the weight of his words at the time. My dad had followed the path his immigrant parents believed would bring stability and success. While he was exceptional at his work, it wasn’t his choice. Music was his passion, but life had led him elsewhere.

A Moment That Changed Everything

The summer before high school, my parents showed up at my summer job at a golf range. I’ll never forget the look on their faces when they told me my dad had been diagnosed with cancer. That summer, I watched him go through treatment while continuing to work every day at a job he didn’t love. Seeing him push through pain and sacrifice shook me in ways I didn’t yet understand. It planted a seed—a vow to myself: I would never live with “I wish I had.” But I was too young to articulate that lesson. Instead, I spiraled. After my dad recovered from his first battle with cancer, I went through a dark period. I idolized outcasts and became one, racking up twenty-five felony counts and nearly losing my life dismantling a homemade explosive. I wasn’t a bad kid; I was a traumatized one. Watching my dad battle illness while sacrificing his dreams left me angry and directionless. I was lucky, though. An understanding judge gave me a second chance, sentencing me to community service instead of jail time. And then something shifted. Music found me.

Finding My Purpose

Music became my anchor and my escape. I threw myself into it, discovering not just a passion but a purpose. At first, I wondered if I was chasing my dad’s dream.But over time, I realized it didn’t matter. His unfulfilled dream fueled me, but music was mine. Before he passed away after his fifth battle with cancer, I told him something I’d carried in my heart for years: I pursued music because of him. His love for it, the way he poured himself into the piano, inspired me to chase my own path. That conversation remains one of the most meaningful of my life. Purpose isn’t always a grand plan—it lives in the present moment. It’s in how you show up for what’s in front of you, whether it’s playing music, folding a sandwich with care, or teaching someone with passion. Purpose is about being engaged, being present, and giving your best. For me, it’s been about music. The music business has tested me in ways I never imagined, but it’s also connected me to something larger than myself. Every stage I’ve played, every note I’ve shared, feels like a tribute to my dad—a way of honoring his story and ensuring that his love for music didn’t end in regret. But purpose isn’t just about fulfillment. It’s about contribution. As Viktor Frankl wrote, “Life is never made unbearable by circumstances, but only by lack of meaning and purpose.” When you find what lights you up, it often intersects with how you can make the world better, even in small ways.

Living Without Regret

Looking back, my dad’s story taught me that purpose isn’t about what the world expects of you—it’s about listening to the quiet pull inside, the thing that lights you up and makes you feel alive. It’s not always easy. Fear, doubt, and the expectations of others will try to drown out that voice. But purpose is worth fighting for, even when the road gets tough. Pursuing music hasn’t been an easy journey. There were moments when I doubted everything, when the challenges felt insurmountable. But that lesson from my dad—don’t let fear define you, don’t live with “what ifs”—has been my guide.Everyone has a spark, a unique gift that lights their fire. For me, it’s music. For you, it might be something else entirely. But whatever it is, trust it. Follow it. Because purpose isn’t just about what fulfills you—it’s about how your gifts can inspire, connect, and serve others. My dad’s story reminds me daily that life is too short for anything less.