We wear many hats throughout our lives. Some of these hats are roles we choose, while others are roles that choose us. I see myself as a husband and father—a guardian; a hiker and non-profit founder—a healer; a trooper—a protector; and a writer and musician—a creator. Each of these hats reflects a part of my identity, but none define me entirely. What I do is not who I am but fits into my overall being. The thread that ties all these roles together is a dedication to service. No matter the scenario or situation, I am committed to serving others.
This commitment to service is not unique to me. Many of us choose a life of service, consciously or unconsciously, because something deep within us says it is the right thing to do. Yet, as noble as this path is, it is also fraught with challenges. One of the saddest things I’ve witnessed is people failing to recognize their purpose. Over time, the hats they wear become too heavy, too worn, and the core of who they are is replaced with cynicism. The fire that once drove them dims, and the sense of purpose that led them to this life of service fades away.
We’ve all observed this trajectory, and some have experienced it firsthand. Within three to five years, the initial enthusiasm begins to erode. We start to lose sight of our identity and the driving force behind our work. The disillusionment sets in—the very people we are dedicated to serving begin to seem like sources of irritation. Once viewed as individuals deserving of help and compassion, the public starts to appear frustrated, with their challenges feeling minor and their expectations unreasonable. Even mundane tasks, like a trip to Walmart, can provoke a disproportionate sense of annoyance.
As our perspective shifts, so do our priorities. We begin to prioritize money over service. We trade a life dedicated to others for the perceived security of a cubicle. We convince ourselves that maybe this job, this calling, isn’t for us after all. Bitterness sets in. We lose our core.
And when a public servant loses their core, it is heartbreaking to witness. The fire that once burned bright is extinguished. The person who once found joy and purpose in serving others is now disenchanted, detached, and directionless.
These struggles don’t exist in isolation. They’re compounded by the challenges of life outside the job. Personal loss, broken relationships, the death of loved ones—these experiences pile on, and we find ourselves carrying a heavier burden than we ever imagined. And when the weight becomes too much, we look for someone or something to blame. We blame society. We blame the job. We blame everyone but ourselves.
The archer does not blame the target when he misses his mark, a lesson attributed to Confucius. This wisdom reminds us to take responsibility for our failures and missteps instead of pointing fingers elsewhere.
We lose more than just our way when we fail to take responsibility. We lose a part of ourselves, our sense of purpose, and the unique potential we were meant to fulfill.
We. Lose. Our. Core.
But here is the hard truth: to live a service life is to acknowledge these thoughts and feelings, accept that they will profoundly impact us, and keep going anyway. We do not seek fame, fortune, or glory, but because the very fabric of society depends on people like us. It depends on people willing to serve, even when it’s hard or even when it hurts.
Those who seek power the most deserve it the least. This idea reminds us that authentic leadership isn’t about personal gain or the pursuit of authority. Instead, it’s about humility and a commitment to serving others. When we focus on service rather than power, we align ourselves with the deeper purpose that led us to this path in the first place.
We must not forget that a life of service is a life of leadership, and leadership does not exist without personal sacrifice. Every time we put on one of those hats and step into a role, we make a deliberate choice to lead by example, to put others first, and to honor the commitment we made to serve. This choice often challenges us to set aside personal comfort and confront difficult situations head-on.
So, do not mistake what you do with who you are. You are not defined by the hat you wear but by the purpose that drives you to wear it. You said yes to this lifestyle because you said you needed to serve. Remember that. Protect it. Nurture it. And never lose sight of the core of who you are.