Purpose Driven

We have something at my work called Pause for Purpose.

At the beginning of meetings, we stop just for a moment and recognize something meaningful.

Sometimes it’s a team that showed up during a natural disaster to help families get back on their feet. Sometimes it’s employees volunteering in the community. Sometimes it’s people doing extraordinary things when the world gets messy.

And I love that we do that.

I really do. Because in corporate spaces, we talk a lot about values. But when you pause the agenda to honor service, real human service, that tells people those words aren’t just printed in the company newsletter. They are practiced. This matters.

Since I’ve become a leader, things have happened. My perspective has shifted. I’ve been exposed to the why behind the time off.

I’ve spent more time listening to a bigger group than just my handful of usuals about their kids, their bad mornings, their big wins, their big losses.

And something happened recently that shifted the way I think about that phrase Pause for Purpose. I logged into a one on one with someone while I was in the middle of a personal storm. But friend I was present… technically.

Camera on.

Notes open.

Trying so hard to be professional.

But I guess my  face told a different story. Life had hit hard. And I was doing what so many of us have learned to do in corporate America, Breathe and power through.

And I didn’t have some perfectly articulated leadership thought in that moment. I wasn’t sitting there thinking, We pause to honor people who show up during disasters out there in the world… but what about the quiet disasters happening right in front of us on Teams?

No.

What I was thinking about was all the 7011 things I should be doing that were not this meeting and what I saw was my friend. Not my colleague. My friend. Stop in the middle of my internal crisis. and I guess something in them said Dude. I am not about to start asking about open requisitions and metrics, and time to fill while my friend is here struggle bussing. And then she said three simple words, not with obligation, not with authority, not with agenda but with compassion.

Are you okay?

What followed was a series of disarmours yes, I just made that word up, and I hope it means to you what it feels like to me.

We sat in the messy.

Allowed the word vomit.

Allowed the silence.

Allowed the human to be present.

And I realized how powerful it is to be truly seen not for what you deliver, but for who you are. To pause for someone, even when the calendar says you shouldn’t. To pause for humanity. We shared stories. And then something unexpected happened. It turned out we had been through similar life events. Different details. Same ache. Same confusion. Same late night ceiling staring. Suddenly, the meeting wasn’t a meeting anymore. It was two humans realizing they weren’t alone.

Sometimes purpose isn’t planned. Sometimes it isn’t polished. Sometimes it doesn’t come with a slide or a shout out. Sometimes it shows up as a quiet, unscheduled moment where you choose presence over productivity. And that changed me.

Not everything needs to be about charging forward with the agenda. Sometimes it’s about closing the laptop a little… and opening the space. We extend deadlines for system outages. We reschedule meetings when calendars collide. But when life interrupts? We often ask people to just… keep going. Like we are supposed to tough it out in silence. Like being professional means holding it all in. I don’t think that’s right. If someone needs the ear extended, extend the ear. If someone needs to move the meeting, move the meeting. If someone just needs space, give them space.

Because leadership, or even just being human,  isn’t just about applauding heroic moments after the fact. It’s recognizing the messy moment in real time. I think the bravest thing you can do isn’t continuing to charge forward. It’s stop.

Look at the person on the screen. And choose compassion over cadence.

Pause for Purpose doesn’t always have to mean spotlighting the big, visible acts of service. It can mean making room for the invisible ones. The daily act of showing up when you are barely holding it together. The quiet courage of saying, I’m not okay. The dignity of being allowed to be human at work. We celebrate people who run toward storms. We should also pause for the people standing in one. Right in front of us.

Pause ON purpose.