Stop Asking “What Should I Do?” Start Asking “Why Should I Do It?

Whenever people find themselves at a crossroads, they almost always ask the same question.

“What should I do?”

Should I leave my job?

Should I move house?

Should I retire?

Should I end the relationship?

Should I start a business?

Should I walk the Camino?

They’re perfectly reasonable questions, and I’ve asked many of them myself over the years. The trouble is, they often assume that the answer lies somewhere outside us, waiting to be discovered like a missing sock behind the washing machine (how did it even get there?)

Life, inconveniently, is rarely that obliging.

When people come to me during a major life transition, they often hope I’ll tell them what to do next. After all, I’m a doctor. Surely I must have a diagnosis, a treatment plan and perhaps a prescription to make the whole business a little less complicated. When they say “complicated”, most actually mean “terrifying.”

I’m afraid life doesn’t work like that. Mine certainly doesn’t.

In medicine, the correct diagnosis usually comes before the treatment. If someone has a pain in their chest, we don’t immediately prescribe medication and hope for the best. We first figure out what is causing the pain.

Oddly enough, we often do the exact opposite when it comes to life’s bigger questions. We rush towards decisions before we understand what is causing the pain.

No wonder so many people find themselves climbing ladders that are leaning against the wrong wall.

I suspect that is why major life crises can feel so unsettling. They don’t just force us to make decisions; they force us to question the assumptions that shaped the decisions we’ve already made.

Perhaps the better question isn’t, “What should I do?”

Perhaps it’s, “What really matters to me?”

The answers aren’t the same.

Imagine two people who both decide to leave demanding careers.

From the outside, they’ve made the same decision.

One leaves because they’re running away from stress. Six months later, they discover that stress has an irritating habit of following them wherever they go.

The other leaves because they have become clear about the kind of life they want to live. They value time with family, meaningful work, good health and mornings that don’t begin with checking emails before breakfast.

Their decision looks identical.

Their motivation couldn’t be more different.

Purpose has a remarkable way of simplifying complicated decisions. It doesn’t necessarily make them easy, but it gives them direction.

When we know what truly matters, saying “yes” becomes simpler because we’re also prepared to say “no”.

Without that clarity, every opportunity looks equally tempting. Every path seems equally uncertain. We spend months comparing options when the real issue isn’t choosing between them. It’s that we haven’t decided what sort of life we’re trying to create in the first place.

I’ve seen this happen on countless occasions.

People arrive feeling desperate for answers, convinced that changing jobs, moving house or booking a one-way ticket to somewhere with better weather will solve everything. Sometimes those changes are exactly what’s needed.

Sometimes they aren’t.

More often than not, what changes first is not their postcode but their perspective.

Once people reconnect with what gives their life meaning, the practical decisions begin to fall into place. Not because life suddenly becomes simple, but because they finally have a compass.

I’ve always preferred a compass to a map.

A map tells you exactly where to go, but it only works if someone else has already walked the route. A compass is different. It doesn’t tell you every twist and turn. It simply helps you keep moving in the right direction, even when the path disappears from view.

Purpose works in much the same way.

It won’t spare you from uncertainty. It won’t eliminate difficult choices or guarantee that every decision will be the right one. What it will do is help you navigate those moments with greater confidence because your choices are anchored in something more solid than convenience.

So, if you’re standing at one of life’s many crossroads, wondering what to do next, resist the temptation to rush towards the nearest answer.

Instead, pour yourself a cup of tea, take the dog for a walk, sit beneath a tree or spend an afternoon somewhere quiet. Then ask yourself a different question.

Not, “What should I do?”

But, “What kind of life do I want to wake up to each morning?”

The answer may not arrive immediately.

But when it does, you’ll probably find that the next steps are clear.