Finding your Why

Introduction

You get to a certain point in life—maybe after a move, or a birthday, maybe after a breakup, or just on a Tuesday morning while folding the same dish towel you’ve folded a thousand times—and you look around at your life and you realize you've made a lot of decisions here. You've built a life, you've accumulated, and you've left things behind. You've moved away from entire chapters of your life. And somehow, you're standing here, maybe scratching your head, heart quietly asking: How exactly did I get here? What map was I following? What compass was I using? And while I'm asking this, was it even mine?

That’s where this all begins. Not just “How did I get here?” but “Why am I here?” What current has been pulling at me, pushing me, shaping me? And do I even still want to move in that direction?

This is a thought journey that I have recently traveled, diving into that invisible engine inside. You know, the one that makes choices before the words arrive. The one that sometimes leads us home—and sometimes doesn’t. And here’s where I started.

What’s Moving You?

Have you ever found yourself wondering how you’ve gotten from point A to point B in your life?Or maybe you’re looking ahead, curious where you’re going—and what within you is steering the way. And to be honest, I’m asking this in regard just about anything at all. Not only the big life pivots—the new love, the breakup, the move, the shift in work—but also the small ones. The trip to the grocery store. The yes to something new. The no that comes with a sigh of relief. The pause between impulses.

Recently, I have noticed my creative engine has been in overdrive. Like some cosmic faucet got turned all the way on and forgot how to shut off. I’m getting visions, downloads, opportunities, collaborations, ideas—and with them, that old friend of mine I refer to as activation. And what also comes up for me is the thought, just because I can do something, doesn’t mean I will, or. doesn’t mean I have to, or doesn’t mean it’s something I must carry forward.

This spiraling outward of energy—this glittering mess of potential—is gorgeous. It’s a thrill. It’s like one of those pendulum-pour paintings where paint flows freely from a swinging cup across a canvas. It blooms outward in sacred geometry—chaotic, alive, unpredictable. That’s what my inner landscape has felt like lately: a radiant overflow, expanding fast and far. And then something happens. The pendulum swings back. The energy starts to gather and it wants to come home.

What I’m sitting with now is the return path. The spiral inward. The quiet contraction after the rush of expansion. Where the questions aren’t about the outcome or the method, but something earlier, something root-deep. When I move past the can or should I, I find myself at, well, what is the why underneath this movement? What is the why behind offering a service, hosting a group, or opening a door?

I don’t need a reason to create or to explore or to let expression flow through. That part belongs to Soul. It’s intuitive, innate. But when it comes to action in the world—choices that ripple outward—I seem to require anchoring. I need a why that isn’t borrowed. A why that doesn’t evaporate under pressure. A why that holds me steady when the motion begins. That’s the thread I’m pulling on right now: What’s moving me, and why?

And once you start pulling on the thread of what’s moving you… you start to see that some of your whys might not even be yours. And that’s where the deeper unraveling begins

What’s Underneath the Why?

Okay, now we've gone and done it, and this is my absolute favorite part of this process!

Once you start asking what’s moving you, the next thing to wonder is whether the answers even belong to you. And I’ve started doing that. Quietly. Inwardly. Honestly. And what I’m noticing is… some of the whys I’ve carried? They’re not mine, they’re not rooted in me, and some of them, they’ve long expired.

Because I have to.

Because it was in front of me.

Because someone asked me to.

Because I should.

Because I need the money.

It won't hurt me to do it.

None of these are wrong on their own. Sometimes they’re true, or partly true. Sometimes they’re enough to get something started. I want to know the thread beneath the thread. What’s the whisper under:

What's the whisper under: Because someone asked me to?

I wanted to be liked.

I didn’t know how to say no.

I thought love was measured by how much I could give away.

What’s the source of: Because I should?

I’ve been the dependable one for a long time.

People expect it.

It’s become part of my identity.

If I stop, who am I?

Where is the root of: Because I need the money?

Fear.

Scarcity.

Lack

Exhaustion.

What is the message in: It won't hurt me to do it?

I’ve trained myself to tolerate more than I should.

I’ve called that generosity.

These aren’t accusations. They’re recognitions. They live in the bones.

And here’s the shift I feel coming. I want to know the why that expands me. The one that rises in my belly and blooms into my voice. The one that doesn’t collapse in on itself when questioned, doesn’t cling or shrink me. It doesn’t require a story to justify it. It's clean and quiet and strong, like a tree root finding water underground.

I’m not denying that sometimes we do what’s needed. We say yes to the bills, to the caretaking, to the commitment. I live in the world, too. But I won’t pass up the opportunity to ask the real question. And if you’re still with me, maybe you won’t either. What’s underneath the why and what if only the whys that feel like home are the ones I follow?

Journal Prompts: Discovering your Why

These prompts are meant to support you in slowing down, listening inwardly, and honoring the information your “why” is offering. This is not a demand for change—it’s an invitation to notice what’s true.

1. What choices in my life felt like they belonged to someone else’s map?

2. What is one thing I’m doing right now that I haven’t questioned in a long time?

3. What happens in my body when I follow a borrowed why? What about when I follow a rooted one?

4. Where do I feel resistance when I try to name my why? What might that resistance be protecting?

5. What are the invisible agreements I’ve made about how I’m supposed to show up?

6. When I listen gently, what desire or truth is trying to rise through me?

7. How can I honor the information my why is offering—even if I’m not ready to act on it yet?

I hope these prompts open the path to your why and your authentic creation and expression in your life.

Love is all there is!

Elaine

You don’t have to walk the journey alone.

Welcome to the community.

I’m so glad you stopped by.

Elaine Bracken Healing | www.ElaineBracken.com