Let Yourself Be Drawn

There are moments in life when something just clicks.

You’re engaged.
You’re focused.
Time seems to move differently.

And when it’s over, instead of feeling drained… you feel energized.

Not because it was easy.

But because it felt like you.

What Do I Love?

It’s one of the simplest questions we can ask.

It is also one of the easiest to dismiss.

What do I love?

Not in a sentimental way.
Not in a “follow your bliss and everything will work out” kind of way.

But as a real question.

What draws your attention?
What wakes up your curiosity?
What do you find yourself returning to, even when no one is asking you to?

Sometimes what we love is not dramatic. It may not look impressive from the outside. But it often carries important information about who we are, what matters to us, and where we feel most alive.

What You Are in Love With Shapes Everything

There’s a reflection by Joseph Whelan, SJ — long misattributed to Pedro Arrupe, SJ — that gets at this directly. Whelan wrote that what you are in love with will affect everything: what gets you out of bed in the morning, what you do with your evenings, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.

I’ve always appreciated that because it makes love feel practical, not sentimental.

Not romantic love. Not preference. But the deeper kind — the things that organize your attention without being asked to.

What we love has a way of organizing our attention.

It shapes what we notice.
What we return to.
What we care about.
Where our energy goes.

Not because love gives us a simple answer.

But because it often points us toward what is most alive in us.

Following What You’re Drawn To

Sometimes what we love is easier to access than trying to explain ourselves directly.

There’s a line from Rumi that I keep returning to:

“Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love.”

Instead of analyzing your life… try following what you’re naturally drawn to.

Start simply: list several things you love. Activities, environments, experiences, types of conversations. There are no right answers. Just notice what you’re drawn to.

Then choose three or four and sit with them a little longer.

For each one, ask:

Why do I love this?
What does this reveal about me?
How does this reflect something true about who I am?

The goal isn’t to be impressive. The goal is to be honest.

What you love often knows something about you before you do.

Noticing the Patterns

As you look across what you love — the themes, the things that keep showing up — ask yourself:

A theme I’m noticing in what I love is…

And then one step deeper:

What does this say about what matters to you?

These patterns matter.

They are clues about what you care about, how you are made, and where you may have more to give.

The Subtle Signals We Miss

Many people override these signals without realizing it.

You might find yourself saying:

“I should enjoy this…”
“I’m good at this, so I’ll just keep doing it…”
“This is what’s expected of me…”

And yet, something feels off.

Love doesn’t always announce itself.

Sometimes its absence shows up first — as a quiet resistance, or a lack of enthusiasm you can’t quite explain.

And when love does show up, it’s often quiet.

As curiosity.
As concern.
As joy.
As a topic you can’t stop thinking about.
As a kind of work that leaves you tired, but not depleted.

David Whyte captures this beautifully in his poem The Truelove — the idea that love calls to us not grandly or biblically, but quietly and intimately, in the face of what we already know we have to move toward. And when we finally do, we find everything holds us.

Energy Is the Connection

Your strengths show how you naturally create value.

What you love shows where your energy comes alive.

And when those two come together…

Something starts to feel like you.

A Question Worth Sitting With

Here’s a question I find useful in this kind of exploration:

If someone quietly observed the moments when you feel most alive… what might they guess you care deeply about?

Not what you’re paid for.

Not what you’re supposed to care about.

But what the pattern of your aliveness might reveal.

That question can take a while to answer honestly.

But it’s worth asking.

This Isn’t About Chasing Only What Feels Good

Not everything meaningful will feel energizing in the moment.

There are responsibilities, challenges, and seasons that require effort.

But there’s a difference between effort in service of something you love, and grinding through a life that never connects to it.

Not with judgment.

With curiosity.

Because what you love is already trying to tell you something.

A Place to Begin

You don’t need to change everything at once.

Just start noticing.

What do you love, even if it seems small?
What do you keep returning to?
What draws your attention even when nothing is asking it to?
What leaves you tired but not depleted?

And if one question feels like a good place to carry forward, it might be this:

What is my gift—and how do others experience me when I’m most fully myself?

That’s where we’ll turn next.

Further Reading

  • Joseph Whelan, SJ, “Fall in Love” — the passage on what love organizes in a life. See also Jim Manney’s piece on the attribution history for how it ended up under Arrupe’s name.

  • David Whyte, The House of Belonging — Whyte’s poetry collection, and the source of “Truelove” (p. 96). The poems here explore belonging, love, and the courage to move toward what calls you. “Sweet Darkness” and “The Journey” are worth reading alongside this post.

  • Rumi, trans. Coleman Barks, The Essential Rumi — the source for the quote in this post; p. 51.

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You Are Not Meant To Be Well-Rounded