Practical Wisdom: The Gift Invisibility

As I journey across the world, I’ve been traveling light—not just in what I pack, but in how I present myself. Without my hair dryer, curlers, fancy clothes, jewelry, or the platform of speaking to crowds, I’ve stepped into a quieter, simpler way of being. What I didn’t anticipate was how this simplicity would render me almost invisible.

In the bustling streets of the cities I explore, people rush by without a second glance. I’m bumped into, brushed past, and noticed only by those eager to sell me something or those frustrated by my foreign presence. I usually carry a vibrant sense of purpose wherever I go, knowing my presence and words have meaning. But now, without the outward trappings of my identity or the ability to speak much of the local language, I sometimes wonder: Do I still make a difference?

I must admit, this loss of visibility brings with it a pang of grief. Who am I if no one sees me? What is my purpose if I’m no longer standing before a crowd, inspiring and guiding? These questions tug at my heart in ways that feel both unsettling and necessary.

Invisibility can feel like a kind of erasure, as though the impact I long to make in the world has faded into the background. Without the affirmations of others—nods of agreement, warm applause, or shared connections—it’s easy to question whether the work I’ve devoted my life to still matters.

And yet, in this grief, I’m discovering a deeper truth: purpose isn’t always about being seen. Sometimes, it’s about showing up quietly, doing the small, meaningful things that ripple outward in ways we may never fully know. Even in this space of invisibility, there have been small moments that remind me I can still make the world a little better for others.

Just yesterday, while I was waiting for Mark at the ATM, I noticed a very old woman drop her glove. She couldn’t bend down to retrieve it, so I picked it up and handed it to her. Her whispered “Grazie” and the gratitude in her eyes were as soft as the texture of cashmere glove I returned to her.

Earlier in the day, on a crowded boat, I saw a young man holding a baby, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. I offered him my seat, and though his words were few (and I couldn’t understand them), his relief and appreciation spoke volumes.

Later that afternoon, in a bustling corner of one of those narrow corridors between buildings here in Venice, I noticed a very frustrated-looking woman struggling to frame a photo while people walked back and forth in front of her. I quietly stepped out of her shot and her angry face broke into a smile. It felt like a small victory we shared.

These moments may seem insignificant, but they remind me that purpose doesn’t always require a grand stage. Purpose can be found in the way we respond to the world around us—with kindness, generosity, and a willingness to make things just a little better for someone else.

I certainly ache for the deeper connections I often feel in my work—the sense that my voice matters and my efforts create change. Yet, as I lean into this experience of invisibility, I’m seeing that making a difference doesn’t have to look the way it normally does – at least right now.

Purpose isn’t always about being seen; it’s about seeing—truly noticing the needs around us and responding with love.

If you, too, feel unseen or wonder if you’re still making a difference, here are some thoughts to consider:

• It’s okay to grieve what’s changed. Acknowledge the loss of what once was, but don’t let it define your sense of worth.
  
  
• Purpose evolves. It’s not tied to roles, recognition, or visibility; it lives in the way we choose to engage with life.
  
  
• Small acts are powerful. Picking up a glove, offering a seat, or stepping aside for a photo may seem minor, but they carry meaning and make the world more pleasant. Little acts help others feel more visible in a world where invisibility can be so challenging.
  
  
• Your presence matters. Even when no one sees it, the way you show up ripples out in unseen ways.
  
  
• Kindness is purpose. Each act of love and generosity is a reminder that we are here to uplift one another.

I’m finding meaning in the quiet.

This journey has shown me that invisibility isn’t the absence of purpose; it’s an invitation to rediscover it in quieter ways. It’s a chance to deepen my connection with myself and the world, to trust that even when my impact feels small, it is no less valuable.

As I walk through foreign streets, unadorned and unseen, I carry with me the desire to make a difference in everything I do. I may not be standing on stages or flashing the sparkles of my everyday life, but my heart still shines with the same intention to leave the world better than I found it.

In this quiet space, I’m learning that purpose isn’t something we achieve—it’s something we embody. And perhaps that is the greatest gift of all.