Originally a warning to subway travelers, the phrase conveys a powerful image for all travelers. In any journey or pursuit we might undertake, there’s always a gap between where we are and where we want to be.

In the late 4th century, a monk named John Cassian visited the Egyptian desert to learn about the monastic life from those who practiced it there. He recounts an important lesson he learned from one Abba Moses:

Children, all virtues and all pursuits have a certain immediate purpose; and those who look to this purpose and adapt themselves accordingly will reach the ultimate goal to which they aspire. The farmer willingly works the earth, enduring now the sun’s heat and now the winter’s cold, his immediate purpose being to clear it of thorns and weeds, while his ultimate goal is the enjoyment of its fruits. The merchant, ignoring dangers on land and sea, willingly gives himself to his business with the purpose of making a profit, while his goal is enjoyment of this profit. The soldier, too, ignores the dangers of war and the miseries of service abroad. His purpose is to gain a higher rank by using his ability and skill, while his goal is to enjoy the advantages of this rank.

This is simple and straightforward, the classic analytical strategy of breaking down larger goals into smaller objectives, steps, tasks, or whatever one would call them. But this is not always so easy to do, as the story shows:

Now our profession also has its own immediate purpose and its own ultimate goal, for the sake of which we willingly endure all manner of toil and suffering. Because of this, fasts do not cast us down, the hardship of vigils delights us; the reading and study of Scripture are readily undertaken; and physical work, obedience, stripping oneself of everything earthly, and the life here in this desert are carried out with pleasure.

You have given up your country, your families, everything worldly in order to embrace a life in a foreign land among rude and uncultured people like us. Tell me, what was your purpose and what goal did you set before yourselves in doing all this?

We replied: “We did it for the kingdom of heaven.” In response Abba Moses said: “As for the goal, you have answered well; but what is the purpose which we set before us and which we pursue unwaveringly so as to reach the kingdom of heaven? This you have not told me.”

When we confessed that we did not know, the old man replied: “The goal of our profession, as we have said, is the kingdom of God. Its immediate purpose, however, is purity of heart, for without this we cannot reach our goal. We should therefore always have this purpose in mind; and, should it ever happen that for a short time our heart turns aside from the direct path, we must bring it back again at once, guiding our lives with reference to our purpose as if it were a carpenter’s rule.”

from The Conferences (books 1-2), by John Cassian

When we consider the distance between where we are and where we want to be, it can be discouraging. It can look much darker, colder, and more hopeless than the small gap between the platform and the subway train.

If we instead consider and focus on the immediate purpose—the next step—between us and our goals, we are more likely to experience encouragement, enthusiasm, and hope—because we’re focusing on something closer to us, more in our sphere of control or influence. 

But as the above story shows, it can sometimes be difficult to identify that immediate purpose or next step.

Most people can identify it with little or no difficulty when it is external, something to be said or done. What’s more difficult is identifying it when it’s something internal—something related to our patterns of thought, habits, or self-awareness. When the next step toward our goal is within us, an inner transformation, it’s helpful to enlist the aid of someone else, for none of us can see ourselves clearly. The gap between who we are and who we could be is much more obscure than the space between the subway train and platform.

As it turns out, the last word in that well known phrase “mind the gap” serves as a convenient acronym to remember Cassian’s story. If you want to be successful in your pursuit, mind the Goal And Purpose—with the knowledge that the next step, the “immediate purpose” as Abba Moses called it, may very well be within you.

The greatest sources of our suffering are the lies we tell ourselves.

—Elvin Semrad

In The Last Jedi, Luke Skywalker—embittered and cynical in response to his failures as a teacher—is reluctantly instructing a new student about the Force. He asks her what the Force is, and when Rey responds, Luke derisively replies: Amazing—everything you just said was wrong. 

It may be my favorite line in the whole film.

It is indeed amazing how often and for how long we can be misled by wrong, unhelpful, or life-draining beliefs. Here are just a few with which you might be familiar:

“I deserve…”—Of course, there are things we can rightly say that everyone deserves, such as basic human respect, or doesn’t deserve, like randomly dying in a terrorist attack. But on the other extreme, it seems like half the advertising campaigns running at any given time include some version of “you deserve.” The big problem with this is that is pulls us away from thankfulness, and without thankfulness, happiness is virtually impossible. The idea that I deserve something makes happiness dependent on something external that I don’t have rather than on an internal mindset about what I do have. Dwelling on what we deserve doesn’t serve us well.

Performance is more valuable than character. This is the wrong belief that a person’s functionality is the most important factor in determining his or her value. Taken to an extreme, this belief dehumanizes those who are evaluated by it, turning them into “human doings” instead of human beings. The better belief: value is a function not only of what we do and how well we do it, but also of who we are. When we consider the power of culture and the skill that can be developed through teaching and diligence, we see that character, integrity, and virtue are actually at least as valuable as raw performance.

Connection depends on being informed. The fear of missing out (“FOMO”) is related to this wrong belief. Think of the teenager who can’t tear herself away from Snapchat. She stays tuned in because she’s afraid of missing out on the updates of the 529 other youth in her social network and consequently (she says) being socially excluded in the real world. It’s a common trap of the information age. But real connection is not a function of consuming information. It’s a two-way street.

It may not be possible totally to avoid buying into wrong beliefs from time to time, but there are actions we can take to protect us from the corrosive power they can have over time. Conversations with a good coach are often the means through which we see the wrong beliefs we couldn’t see before and thus liberate ourselves from their destructive power. There are some things we can’t do alone on an island.