I’ve Found What I’m Looking For
Purpose, U2, and Lessons from the Joshua Tree Desert
Traveling to Joshua Tree with a friend of 25 years—a friendship that exists only because of a series of seemingly random circumstances[i]—has further opened my mind to great appreciation just for being. Much like the Joshua Trees themselves, our friendship began, has survived, and evolved through the randomness of life. I couldn’t help but think about how chance and intention intertwined as we wandered through the desert.
U2’s Joshua Tree album – a classic! became our pre-trip and during-trip soundtrack, like on repeat 20 times. One afternoon, my companion suggested that perhaps I hike because: “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for…” I laughed, yet, I paused for a moment and responded that I disagree, I have found what I’ve been looking for—a closely woven purpose that blends work, love, relationships, learning, and wandering. Regardless, my journey in the desert wasn’t about getting lost or being found—it was about letting my mind wander to grow, to think bigger, and dig deeper.
The Desert, the Trees, and the Vast Universe
Joshua Trees stand like sentinels of persistence, reaching skyward to the blazing sun, through centuries of challenge and change. Early Mormon settlers named them after the Old Testament figure Joshua, whose raised arms symbolized prayer and faith. Less prayer and faith to me, seeing them scattered across the rocky landscape and learning about their 2.5 mm year evolutionary journey reminded me of our own timeline from the early hominins Ardi and Lucy, 4.4 and 3.2 mm years ago though to modern humans (homo sapiens) 300,000 years ago where each existence evolves and often feels random. Evolution itself embraces change in a path toward survival of the fittest. We, like the Joshua Tree, embrace evolution or face the consequences.
At night, as the Joshua Trees were swallowed up by the darkness and our gaze turned to staring up at the vast, dark sky, I couldn’t help but think how small we are in this 14-billion-year-old cosmos. It’s humbling to realize that our time on this 4-billion-year-old rock we call Earth is extraordinarily finite (in the grand scheme of things). We don’t have time to waste. We can’t afford to let randomness become an excuse to drift without purpose. I would propose using randomness and finite time as a catalyst to intentionally reach for and discover your life's purpose. Like the trees, we must reach upward and onward despite the odds (or because of them).
Lost and Found - An Unexpected Descent
At one point, we found ourselves descending 1,000 feet off the unmarked side of a mountain—packs on, scrambling to get back on track. It was one hell of an afternoon, but the point is, we were never really lost, just challenged. The challenge itself forced us to be present and resourceful. Lesson: Sometimes, you have to drop down to rise back up, to navigate the unplanned with intention rather than fear.
It reminded me of U2’s lyric: “Where the streets have no name…” The desert doesn’t give you directions. You have to find your own way through, just like in life. Getting lost in the wilderness doesn’t mean you’re off course—it means you’re figuring it out as you go. The journey changes you as much as you change your path.
Deep Conversations and Big Dreams
Throughout the hike, I found myself challenging both my own assumptions and those of my friend. He’s a traveling veterinary cardiologist—a high-demand professional who drives himself everywhere, convinced he likes driving and that it’s a way to unwind. For years, I’ve encouraged him to hire a driver, to reclaim those hours and use them more productively or for deeper reflection. His response as are many when you make a strong point one does not agree with had been, “Yeah, but…”
That mindset is something I see so often—successful, driven people justifying inefficiencies in the name of routine or comfort. The conversation challenged both of us to think differently. What if the goal isn’t to work more but to work smarter? To speed up where it matters but slow down when it counts? To not let the “yeah buts” block the path to living intentionally?
A Reminder to Slow Down and Speed Up
Joshua Tree wasn’t just a physical journey—it was a reminder to recalibrate my thinking. To both speed up and slow down. To seize opportunities without losing sight of why I’m chasing them. It’s not just about finding what you’re looking for but about recognizing when you already have it.
The desert made me think of The Celestine Prophecy, a book that resurfaced in my life randomly in a Maine bookstore, two summers ago, after not having read it since my late 90s college days. Recalling a premise of the book, I knew I had to buy it. Celestine is about paying attention to coincidences and letting life guide you without ignoring its nudges. Sometimes randomness is trying to tell you something—it’s our job to listen.
The Journey Home - Changed Perspectives
Returning from Joshua Tree, I feel different—not because I found something new, but because I realized I already have what I’m looking for: a methodology for intentionally living life with purpose. My purpose is more clear—a woven tapestry of love, work, relationships, learning, and wandering. And I want to share that path of enlightenment with others. Life isn’t about finding a single answer; it’s about exploring and growing through every experience.
The desert taught me to reach upward, even when it seems futile. To keep moving even when the path disappears. To believe that the journey itself holds the answers, if you’re willing to wander long enough to find them.
What if you already have what you’re looking for? Maybe the next step is to stop searching and start living.
This post is part of my Wandering Wealth Advisor series, where I explore how travel, relationships, and personal growth intersect with Wealth Done R.I.T.E. Learn more or subscribe at DaneCFA.com
[i] Herb Maisenbacher and I met in 1999 at Penn Veterinary School. Random circumstances thrust us into being roommates. Immediate friends, supported by our girlfriends (now wives) who also became lifelong friends. The time was right. Thought Vet school was not right for me at least. I moved on, he became a successful Veterinary Cardiologist. We all stayed in touch. Our kids all grew up together. We went through the loss of our fathers and now we moved off of the annual giving of great books at Christmas to rather plan our next adventure. Here’s to the next 25 years of friendship and the 25 beyond that as we aim together to be younger every year, and crush the health of our wonderful but short-lived fathers. Glad to be on this rock on this journey with you!
