Face the moment with purpose, and you will find the gift of power. — Albert Camus
From Absurdity to Intention
Whether or not Albert Camus penned the exact line, its spirit distills his project: in a universe that offers no ready-made meaning, facing the present deliberately becomes a creative act. For Camus, the absurd is not a dead end but a starting point; acknowledging it clears a space where chosen purpose can take root. In that clearing, the “gift of power” is neither domination nor control over others but the steadiness that comes from self-directed commitment. Thus, purpose does not erase uncertainty; it equips us to move through it. This shift—from demanding guarantees to practicing intention—frames what follows.
Camus’s Power: Lucidity and Revolt
In The Myth of Sisyphus (1942), Camus advocates lucid revolt: seeing the futility and yet pushing the stone all the same. This obstinate consent to one’s task yields an inner sovereignty—hence his famous coda, “One must imagine Sisyphus happy.” Similarly, The Plague (1947) dramatizes purpose as moral stamina: Dr. Rieux persists in ordinary decency amid calamity, insisting that “the only way to fight the plague is with decency.” In both works, power appears as constancy under pressure, not as conquest. Moving from philosophy to lived practice, Camus’s own life illuminates how such steadiness is trained.
The Goalkeeper’s Lesson
Before he was a Nobel laureate, Camus played goalkeeper in Algiers—a role defined by split-second presence. He later reflected, “All that I know most surely about morality and obligations I owe to football” (often attributed to a 1957 address). The keeper cannot control the field; he can only adopt a stance—alert, balanced, purposeful—and meet the shot in front of him. That posture exemplifies the quote’s logic: face the moment with intention, and the situation grants you a certain power—the power to respond, if not to dictate. From sport, we turn to older schools that taught a similar stance.
Stoic Bearings in the Present
The Stoics honed purpose into a daily discipline. Epictetus opens the Enchiridion with a stark division: some things depend on us, others do not. By anchoring action where agency truly lies, the Stoic finds composure amid flux. Likewise, Marcus Aurelius urges himself in Meditations to meet each moment justly and resolutely. This ancient posture dovetails with Camus’s: clarity about limits expands our real freedom. Consequently, purpose becomes less a plan for the distant future than a way of standing in the next breath, ready to act.
Psychology of Purpose and Efficacy
Modern research gives this philosophy empirical weight. Albert Bandura’s work on self-efficacy (Psychological Review, 1977) shows that belief in one’s capacity to act sustains effort under difficulty, effectively translating purpose into performance. Meanwhile, Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning (1946) documents how chosen meanings fortified prisoners against dehumanizing conditions, turning intention into resilience. Even longitudinal studies suggest that a sense of purpose predicts better health and longevity (e.g., Hill and Turiano, Psychological Science, 2014). Thus, purpose is not mere sentiment; it reliably amplifies human energy.
Attention, Flow, and the Gift of Power
Finally, purpose organizes attention, and attention converts to usable power. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s Flow (1990) shows that clear goals and immediate feedback narrow awareness to what matters, producing a felt sense of control. Surgeons in the operating room, musicians mid-performance, and coders in deep work report the same phenomenon: by consenting to the task at hand, they gain access to their best capacities. In this light, facing the moment with purpose does not conjure power from nowhere; it unlocks power that was dispersed, gathering it where it can act.