Feeling Lost? How Life’s Hardest Moments Awaken Your True Purpose
- Nikki Sucevic
- Apr 30
- 4 min read

There’s something incredibly sacred about the moments that break us.
When life feels like it’s unraveling and everything seems to be working against you, it might actually be life working through you, clearing what no longer fits to make space for something deeper, truer, and more aligned.
These moments are a clearing. A shedding. A sacred disruption making way for something greater to emerge. Sometimes, the good has to fall away so that the great can enter. It’s not always comfortable. In fact, it can feel deeply painful. But it’s all part of the divine design. These cracks, these breakdowns, make room for us to release stuck emotions and stagnant patterns we didn’t even realize we were holding.
You incarnated on Earth to feel. To experience the full spectrum of emotion, from sorrow to joy, anger to bliss. What a gift to feel sadness and happiness in the same day.
But the thing is, we often attach ourselves to our emotions. We start to believe that we are the sadness, the anger, the anxiety. But those feelings don’t define us, they define a moment. And we are far more expansive than a single moment.
Emotions are vital. They are our compass. Without them, how would we know what lights us up and what dims our spirit? What aligns with our truth and what pulls us off course?
There’s a beautiful shift that happens when you start viewing your emotions from a place of neutrality, when you become the observer. You can notice, “OK, this is sadness,” or “This is anger,” and rather than being consumed by it, you can explore it. Understand it. Use it as a portal for growth.
Because here's the truth: your lowest moments, the chapters you’d rather skip or hide, those are the very things that make you magnetic. It’s always the character with the layered backstory, the one who’s faced challenges and grown through them, that we connect with the most. The depth, resilience, and transformation are what make us care, relate, and root for them.

The people who’ve felt deeply and alchemized their pain into purpose are the ones who carry a certain light. They’ve turned wounds into wisdom. They’ve become the embodiment of strength, compassion, and truth. You are becoming that person.
But many of us have been conditioned to hide our pain. To tuck it away, to “stay positive,” to keep it together. We often mistake emotional expression for weakness. But what if your story, your real, raw, unfiltered story, is the very thing someone else needs to hear to remember they’re not alone?
Not every story needs to be shared publicly, but when we bring our wounds into the light, even privately or creatively, they begin to transform. Your lived experience becomes your greatest contribution. Sometimes, we need a reminder to release the stories, beliefs, and emotions we’ve carried for far too long.
There’s a well-known Zen Buddhist story that captures this perfectly:
The Two Monks and the WomanTwo monks were walking along a river when they came upon a woman who couldn’t cross.Without hesitation, the older monk picked her up and carried her to the other side.Hours later, the younger monk finally blurted out, “I can’t believe you carried that woman! We’re not supposed to touch women.”The elder monk simply replied, “I put her down hours ago. Why are you still carrying her?”
How long have you been carrying something that was only meant to be held for a moment?
The sadness, the guilt, the shame, the resentment...it served its purpose. It asked for your attention. It cracked you open. Now, you get to choose to release.

This is the path of alchemy. Feeling deeply. Witnessing fully. Releasing intentionally. Rising powerfully.
So how do we actually turn pain into purpose?
It begins with presence. Instead of resisting the discomfort, allow yourself to sit with it. Let the grief, anger, or sadness rise up without judgment. Witness it. Feel it fully. This is the first act of alchemy, acknowledging what’s there without running from it. Pain, when honored, becomes a teacher. Ask it, “What are you here to show me?” Often, within the ache is a message, a calling to shift, to speak up, to create, to heal something within yourself or in the world.
From there, choose to create. Purpose isn’t always some grand mission or overnight clarity. Sometimes, it’s simply choosing to use what broke you to build something beautiful; a poem, a project, a conversation, a movement. When we share our story from the heart, we give others permission to do the same. That ripple effect is purpose. You don't need to be fully healed to be of service; you just need to be willing to walk with your wounds and not ashamed of them.
You didn’t come here to be flawless. You came to live fully. When you show up as your whole self, light and shadow, wisdom and mess, you create space for others to do the same.
So let your pain be part of your purpose. Let your breakdowns lead to breakthroughs. And remember: You are not broken. You are becoming.