I love what I do… right?

I realized something last week. Someone asked me if I liked what I do, and without hesitation, I answered like I always do: “Yes, I love it.” Then I caught myself and added, “Well… most of it.”

But if I’m honest, that isn’t really true.

Take a look at my calendar. I work six days a week. Most of those hours are spent in meetings, looking at spreadsheets, and wrestling with the kinds of challenges that nobody dreams about when they’re a kid imagining their future. Nobody sits at their desk at age twelve thinking, “One day, I hope to spend half my life discussing quarterly forecasts on Zoom.”

So why do I feel this deep sense of joy in my work? Why do I feel aligned, even though so much of my day-to-day is not what I would call “fun”?

It comes down to one thing: clarity.

I am crystal clear on why I’m doing it. Every meeting, every P&L review, every tough conversation with a teammate (all of it is a step along the path toward the future I want to build). That clarity transforms what would otherwise feel like drudgery into progress.

And here’s the kicker: I don’t even know the exact finish line.

I know the direction I’m heading. I know the mountain range I’m walking toward. But I don’t know which peak I’ll end up summiting. Maybe it will be the tallest one. Maybe it will be one off to the side that I couldn’t see when I started out. That part doesn’t bother me, because the joy isn’t in crossing a finish line. It’s in knowing that every step is moving me forward.

Most people confuse clarity with specificity. They think they need to have a detailed five-year plan mapped out, down to the month and day. But clarity doesn’t always look like that. Sometimes clarity is just knowing, without question, that you’re heading north instead of south. You might not know exactly which town you’ll end up in, but you know the compass is pointing the right way.

That’s why clarity is such a powerful driver. It helps you endure the things that are not glamorous, not easy, and not immediately rewarding. Without clarity, every obstacle feels like a reason to stop. With clarity, every obstacle becomes part of the path.

Think about the gym. If you don’t have clarity on why you’re working out, every set of pushups feels pointless and painful. If you do have clarity (whether it’s to feel strong, to be healthy for your kids, or to push your limits) suddenly that same burn in your muscles feels like progress.

Work is the same way. For me, the “why” is not about chasing some arbitrary dollar amount or a specific title. It’s about building something meaningful, creating opportunities, and proving that the vision in my head can take shape in the real world. That’s what makes even the dullest meeting matter.

So no, I don’t “love” most of what I do in the way people think I mean it. But I love the journey. I love the forward motion. And I love that the clarity of my purpose transforms everything (even the boring and frustrating parts) into fuel.

If you’re struggling with your own work, don’t ask yourself whether you enjoy every part of it. That’s the wrong question. Ask yourself whether you’re clear on why you’re doing it in the first place. If the answer is yes, then you can endure almost anything. If the answer is no, even the best job will eventually feel empty.

Clarity is not about the finish line. It’s about knowing the path. And once you know the path, even the hardest days can bring joy.