How To Do the Most Meaningful Work of Your Life
By: Harris Iii
Tags: Pain, Solopreneur, Meaning, Community, Purpose

Turn your Pain into Purpose

BTS photo from the filming of “Counterfeit,” a documentary about Truth, Lies and Magic.

At the age of nine, I received a magic kit for Christmas. I never asked for it, but that gift ended up changing my life. I performed a magic trick for my Mom and Dad in my Grandma’s living room.

Their response to that trick awakened my wonder and made realize anything was possible.

Two years later, I booked a real show at the age of eleven and got paid $25. I spent that money on a photoshoot and then booked another $25 show. Fast forward five years, and I was raking in six-figures a year performing magic shows. I dropped out of public school to tour full-time. By twenty-one, I’d made a million dollars, only to go bankrupt by twenty-two.

I now realize that when you live for the approval of others, you’ll die when you face rejection.

My vocation as a professional illusionist became my lifestyle. I’d do a show for applause, but when I walked off stage, the “show” never ended. I didn’t want the applause to end. And when you’re addicted to that kind of approval, you can waste a million dollars in a very short period of time trying to keep up with the Jones’.

As you can imagine, it was a humbling experience, and forced me to start asking some serious questions about what life was all about. I struggled to find the answers to these questions. What I was supposed to do with my life? I didn’t know. So, I just kept doing the only thing I knew how to do and had been doing since the age of 11: magic shows.

I found myself in a high school gymnasium in Michigan, performing some tricks as a way of promoting a “bigger” show later that evening. I finished what the school called an “assembly program” by escaping from a straight-jacket, à la Harry Houdini. After a couple of football players strapped me in the jacket and I successfully escaped, everyone clapped. And then they got silent, waiting for whatever was supposed to happen next. I had their attention–I just wasn’t exactly sure what to do with it.

I stared up at the bleachers, and the words I’d heard from the principal just a few moments earlier came flooding back to me. The principal had introduced himself to me saying, “You must be the magician.” “Yep, that’s me,” I said, unsure if I was really that thrilled to be in his high school gym to “perform” for his students. But his next question caught me off guard.

“You must know how to trick people, right?” And before I could answer, said, “Why don’t you go out there and teach these kids how they’re getting tricked into making the choices they’re making?”

“What kind of choices?” I asked, intrigued.

“They’re bullying each other. Many are struggling with forms of addiction. Some of them are harming themselves. And we’ve had multiple students take their own lives.” He then said, “If there’s a part of your story you feel like they can relate to, share it. It will be an encouragement to them.” And with a pat on the back, he walked out, introduced me, and the show began.

And that is when the “show” came to an end.

I held up the straight-jacket, and for the first time, opened up about some of the straight-jackets that had trapped and entangled me through the years. Bullying, self-esteem, insecurity, addiction, and even abuse from my childhood. I finished by saying something like, “I don’t know what your straight-jacket is, but I know we all have one. And whatever it is, do not give up hope. Do not buy the lies. There’s truth that can set you free. You matter.”

I don’t remember everything I said that day. But I’ll never forget what happened next.

As the students filed out of the gym, a young girl walked straight up to me. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“I have something for you,” she said.

“Okay, what is it?” I wasn’t sure what else to say.

She reached into her pocket and held out her hand. I extended my arm, and she dropped a razor blade into my hand, and said, “”That’s my straight-jacket, and I don’t want it anymore.”

A school leader said, “C’mon everyone, back to class.” Just before she turned and walked away, I’ll never forget her looking into my eyes and saying, “You’re the first person to ever make me feel like my life matters.”

I’ll never forget the scars I saw up and down her arms as she turned and walked away.

Needless to say, I experienced real magic that day, and my life was changed all over again. I’d gotten a taste of meaningful work, and the desire for money paled in comparison. Instead of focusing on making an income, I became obsessed with making an impact.

Turning Pain Into Purpose

That unpredictable experience in a dated high school gym served an inciting incident in my story. Turning pain into purpose drove a decade of meaningful work. I continued to share my story. My insecurity-driven addiction to applause and approval faded away and was replaced with a healthier addiction: helping others turn their own pain into purpose, and step into the stories they were meant to live.

Let me be frank…I’d like to help you do the same.

Anyone can live a life filled with meaning and magic by doing purpose-driven work. Work that leaves you fulfilled. Work that is life-giving and a joy to get out of bed for.

The bad news is, there’s a pre-requisite. The good news is, it’s one that we all have in common: Pain.

Have you experienced pain in your life? Of course you have. We all have.

And what is your track recorded of surviving that pain? If you’re reading these words, 100%. You’re still here, living. Breathing. Naturally, you may not be thriving. In fact, you may still be suffering. But while pain is often out of our control, I think of suffering as the story we give to our pain, and that’s a story that you have the power to write and tell.

Whether you’re still healing from the pain of your past, or you’ve done some work and are on the other side of it, you aren’t alone.

There are others–countless others, in fact–who are facing the same problems you’ve faced, but just aren’t as far as long as you are. Regardless of where you feel like you are in your own journey, there are others who are just beginning theirs, and you don’t have to be a so-called “expert” in order to help them. I wasn’t an expert when standing on that gym floor. I was actually in a season of failure, digging my way out of $300,000 of bad debt after a slew of unwise decisions. And yet a simple act of vulnerability by sharing my story impacted, and maybe even saved, another person’s life.

You have a story, and your story is meant to be shared.

For many who are reading these words, it’s time to turn what you see as a mess into a message. It’s time to turn your pain into purpose, and your purpose into a plan.

Seeking A Powerful Purpose

The first decade of my career was spent chasing approval. The second decade was spent pursuing purpose. And while I haven’t stopped sharing my story by way of my writing, speaking and performing, the third decade of my career has been spent helping others do the same. I’m trying to change the future of the world, and I can’t do it alone.

That’s why I’ve spent the past five years building a community of storytellers, because I believe they’re the architects of culture. And it’s why I’m building a global network of Solopreneurs. I believe these individuals are the builders of the future, and some of the most purpose-driven entrepreneurs on the planet. This is why I regularly gather those communities together for conferences like STORY and Solo Con.

Community is at the heart of transformative experiences. We can do far more together than we ever could alone.

Maybe, just maybe, your purpose is found in the story of your pain. And as you turn that pain into purpose, you can help others do the same, helping you realize that the magic and meaning you’ve always searching for has been there all along, waiting for you to see it. And in order to see it, maybe you have to believe in it first.