What Do You Do?

What happens when we stop confusing what we do with who we are?

Recently, I asked a group of women a very simple question: What do you do, and what do you love about it? More than 90 women answered. And something about the answers stopped me in my tracks.

Almost every woman answered by telling me what she does professionally. One woman even asked if she could share what she did before she retired. And I found that so intriguing.

Not because there is anything wrong with talking about our careers. It was beautiful to see how many women genuinely love what they do. There was passion, creativity, purpose, and pride in those answers.

But I realized something. I never asked what you do for work. I simply asked: What do you do? And somewhere along the way, most of us learned that those two questions mean the same thing.

When did “What do you do?” become “Who are you?”

Think about how early this begins. We ask children as young as four or five: What do you want to be when you grow up? A firefighter. A doctor. A teacher. An astronaut. A veterinarian.

It seems innocent, and it is innocent in many ways. But I wonder what happens when we repeatedly teach children to imagine their future self through a title. What happens when Who will I be? becomes attached to What will I do?

Then we grow up and introduce ourselves through our occupations: I’m a mom. I’m a teacher. I’m a business owner. I’m a lawyer. I’m retired. I’m a coach. I’m a stay-at-home mom. I’m an entrepreneur.

These things are real. They matter. They can bring us tremendous purpose and joy. But they are still things we do. They are not all of who we are.

What if we asked different questions?

What if instead of asking a child what they want to be when they grow up, we asked: What are you curious about? What do you want to explore? What excites you? What problems do you want to help solve? What makes you feel alive? What stories do you want to tell? What are you interested in learning?

Maybe that leaves a little more room for a person to become themselves rather than deciding who they need to become. Because I don’t think we are here simply to become a title. I think we are here to experience, explore, learn, love, create, connect, grow, and simply be.

I think I would have answered differently a year ago.

If I had been asked this question a year ago, I probably would have seen it as an opportunity to tell you what I do professionally. I would have talked about my business, my offerings, my work, and my accomplishments. And, if I’m being really honest, I probably would have found a way to market myself.

But something has shifted in me. I am at a point in my life where I don’t want to just sell to people anymore. I want to show up as my authentic self. I want to hold space for other people to do the same.

Because maybe that’s part of what we need. Not more people trying to prove who they are. Not more people desperately trying to become enough. But more people remembering that they already are.

What do I do?

I breathe. I am loved. I love doing it.

That’s it. That’s my answer. I don’t have to accomplish something before I deserve love. I don’t have to be productive before I am worthy. I don’t have to build something before I can belong. I don’t have to do something impressive before my existence matters. I can simply be.

And when I really let that sink in, there is an incredible amount of peace there.

Of course, I still do things. I create. I learn. I work. I parent. I speak. I make art. I build community. I explore. I laugh. I grieve. I grow. But those things are expressions of my being. They are not prerequisites for it.

And so, here is a little more about me.

I worldschool my children in collaboration with my husband. What I love about it is getting to explore the world around us and the world within us with the people I love most. I love watching my children discover something for the first time, seeing a new awareness land, watching them make a connection, and seeing their eyes light up when something suddenly makes sense. That makes my heart sing.

I am also an artist, and I am falling back in love with art. I love the expression. I love the stories that can be told without words. I love what happens when something inside of you gets to move through you and become something you can see.

And if we’re talking professionally, I’m a speaker and community builder. I absolutely love seeing someone’s eyes light up when something I say resonates; when a thought creates a new awareness; when someone suddenly sees themselves, or their life, or their possibilities a little differently. I love that.

But none of those titles are the whole of me. They are simply some of the ways my being gets expressed.

Human beings, not human doings.

I know the phrase human beings, not human doings has been said countless times. But maybe we need to actually listen to it. So many of us have been taught, consciously or unconsciously, that we have to do something in order to be someone. Do more. Achieve more. Produce more. Become more. Then maybe you’ll be enough. Then maybe you’ll be loved. Then maybe you’ll finally feel successful.

And what if we interrupted that story?

What if we decided that we don’t have to earn our existence? What if we remembered that underneath every title, every accomplishment, every relationship, every role, every business, every degree, every success and every failure… there is simply a human being? A person breathing. A person feeling. A person learning. A person experiencing. A person worthy of love simply because they are here.

Doing from a place of being

I don’t think the answer is to stop doing things. I don’t think we need to abandon our careers, ambitions, businesses, dreams, or the things we love. Quite the opposite. I think there is something incredibly powerful about doing those things from a place of already being enough.

I don’t create because I need to prove that I am an artist. I create because I love creating. I don’t speak because I need to prove that I have something valuable to offer. I speak because I love connecting with people. I don’t worldschool because it makes me a better mother. I do it because I love exploring alongside my children.

I don’t do these things so that I can finally become someone. I do them because I already am someone. Maybe we don’t have to stop doing. Maybe we just have to stop believing that our doing is what makes us worthy of being.

A final reflection

So, if you ask me: What do you do, and what do you love about it? My answer is: I breathe. I am loved. And I love doing it. And everything else? That’s just me getting to experience what it means to be here.