Seeking Purpose: What an Old Story Can Teach New Leaders
By: Will Cady
Tags: Purpose, Inspiration, Culture, Humanity, Storytelling

It’s remarkable that a story so short is so rich with characters. They are subtly threaded together into a narrative tapestry that reveals more lessons each time we scan our eyes through its colorful weaves. That’s the beauty of these stories. Through time, they begin to carry the familiar comfort of an old, trusted blanket.

We have, of course, the Shepherd and the Caliph at the center of the story from whose stories we can pull great meaning — but looking closer, we can see a few more. There is also the Vizier, the Bodyguard, the Servants, the Shepherd’s Brother, and the Sheep. Each of them, for all their modesty in the telling, play huge roles in the story’s unfolding.

Much like all the vocations of Morocco, each of these characters describe their own unique purposes as ancient as they are urgent. Let’s give them each their due examination.

The Shepherd

I have felt like the Shepherd many times in my life.

The urgency and excitement of his reaction to his discovery implies a deep wandering that came beforehand. Perhaps it was aimless. Perhaps it was driven by seeking. Whatever came before, the moment he tasted that water became the moment he found his purpose.

He feels immediately that something must be done about this and so his reaction is twofold: First, to abandon everything that brought him there, passing off his flock to his brother. Second, to bring his discovery straight to the highest authority he knows, enduring the pains of long distance travel to reach the capitol with breathless speed.

What we, as the omniscient beholders of this story, discover in the end is that his excitement is naive. In the grander scheme of the caliph’s empire, there is nothing new or unique about this water at all. In fact, it may very well be very low grade.

Yet, he is made none the wiser. Buffered from shame or indignity, he returns home triumphant with a newfound purpose sanctioned by the highest power in the land that will be carried on for generations after him.

We are left here with a question. Is the Shepherd a fool?

He is no more a fool than all of us. For is there not always a grander scheme that renders even our most impassioned endeavors naive? Perhaps what matters most about our purpose is less the audacity of its meaning and more the audacity of the actions we take to support it.

Perhaps as a start, we should consider that this spirit of seeking, wherever we encounter it, may be worth protecting from the shame that would destroy it.

The Caliph

The story begins with a testament to the wisdom and diplomacy of the Caliph, Harun al-Rashin. With that, we are primed to regard his character as the ineffable moral center of the tale, which he delivers on brilliantly.

What the Caliph gives us is a critical lesson in leadership. Passion borne from purpose must always be handled with care. Trivialize someone’s purpose and you also diminish their passion. Without passion, an empire will fall.

Among the many of difficult duties of leaders is the job of knowing a grander scheme. With that also comes knowing which truths of that grander scheme to communicate to their team and when.

This can become a trap into hubris for any leader. Knowledge doesn’t reveal power, it reveals purpose. To interpret the Caliph’s actions as a pat on the head for a naive underling is to miss an entire side of the wisdom. Even an empire as great as the Caliph’s is but one grander scheme in an infinite chain of even grander schemes.

The highest wisdom, then, is to recognize that there will always be greater hands moving pieces on the board than our own — and that true power doesn’t need to always descend from the heavens above, but can sometimes spring up from the most humble ground below. How we react to it is everything.

Who could know what role any new oasis may play for an empire generations into its future? Like the water of paradise itself, an impassioned sense of purpose must be treasured and protected no matter how remote. Who best to be the steward of an idea than the one who feels driven by it most?

The Vizier

Yahya the Barmakid, vizier to the caliph, stands as a lesser image of power. He is an example of one corrupted by their own sense of purpose, which has festered into self-importance.

Immediately, his response to the Shepherd is dismissive. He is too busy. So too must be the Caliph; at least in his mind. There is little to be found heroic about his character in this story. In fact, as the closest thing to its villain, he stands as a steadfast obstacle to the resolution our hearts desire in its telling at every turn.

We may ourselves want to dismiss him from this tale entirely — but we can’t and we shouldn’t. Therein lies the rub. You may find his presence disagreeable to the scenery, but what what matters most is that he is involved.

Like all the other characters, what we see in the Vizier is only a reflection of ourselves. He, as this story’s shadow, also holds one of the stories many sacred keys. The Vizier challenges us to stay alert, guarded, and always moving forward. On the surface, to be guarded from outside distractions or threats. In greater depths of wisdom, to be guarded from the blinding force of arrogance that hides within ourselves.

With our desire to move things forward — be it in the form of asking each other qualifying questions about careers, or promoting ourselves, marketing brands, guarding doors, or making deals— we must recognize the difference between holding power and being adjacent to it. We must know that one of these invites purpose and the other invites exchange.

The Servants, The Bodyguard, The Brother, The Sheep (and the Missing Women)

With the lesson of the Vizier fresh in our minds, the purpose of these remaining characters can be drawn into higher relief. They are the most humble of all in this story, yet without any of them the wheels that spin the threads of its tapestry cannot turn.

Who was it that found the water of paradise? It was the Sheep.

Who was it that enabled the Shepherd to take his journey to meet the Caliph? It was the Brother.

Who was it that enabled the Caliph to taste the water? It was the Bodyguard.

Who was it that actually walked the Shepherd into his life of purpose? It was the Servants.

Lastly, who is it that is missing entirely? It is the Women.

Unfortunately, this story makes no mention of the women, but we know they are there. All too often unmentioned and all too often bearing burdens men like me would never know — so long as all we are shown is the empty spaces where their stories belong. Still, those empty spaces serve as a reminder of the importance of the unseen behind any accomplishment. If truth is genuinely our guide, then we must never forget there is always something or someone missing from how our stories get told.

No matter how central of a player we may feel to our own personal myths, we must remember that any purpose, especially the most bold, cannot be fulfilled alone. Whatever our purpose may be and from wherever it comes— be it inherited, discovered, or purchased — it will always be just one thread upheld in a broader tapestry of others, woven together to reveal a higher pattern whose meaning we can only behold with soft enough eyes.

No purpose is ever achieved alone.