Had I known 15 years ago that I would have children of my own, I may have chosen a different path in life to ensure their full stability in an economic world. But, as life would have it, I could not, and still can’t see into the future. Thankfully.
I went about life, as was intended for me then. To work hard in my youth, to endure all kinds of trials and tribulations that are often thought of for those twice my age. And, somehow through the rubble, a little piece of wonder glimmered through.
Transformed into passion and roads that were pre-made. I journeyed upon them, thinking this had to be it; the ‘right’ way to live. A great career, steady and solid income and stability of pensions and retirement a feasible outcome on this path.
For a while until an unexpected turn of events made me realize this was simply another pile to dig out of. Sometimes, we don’t even notice we’re underneath heavy weighted boulders until a glimmer shines our way. This is me.
All seemed great, until yet another pile of gravel buried my feet. Stranded, without so much as a clear sense of direction.
Here I stood.
Gazing at my reflection and looking for the glimmer of wonder.
Nothing shone in obvious bursts. No epiphany loomed above waiting for me to capture.
Just rocks, brick walls and hurdles I couldn’t seem to jump.
Sitting in the quiet, day after day, I waited for this supposed burst of vigor to run through my veins. I awaited the juices of creativity to rain upon me in showers. Finally, after waiting, I gave up.
Some think the first part was giving up; it wasn’t. I made a conscious decision to stop waiting for my purpose to find me.
Instead, I choose to seek it out myself, and if it were hiding in some dark crevice or abyss, I would yank it out by the hair!
I worked at it, with a series of unfortunate events trying to cripple me into disparity. I fought each one off with any energy I could muster. Finally, they were beaten down enough to stay a squashed version of my former self. Stay there! And they have.
Lo and behold, I found myself starting at pages filled with words entwined into sentences that were weaved into paragraphs, that formed stories.
Lo and behold, I found stacks of blank canvases that called out for something, anything…. and the affair with art is still at its heightened state. Perhaps, no longer an affair.
I stood, waiting for purpose to grace me like it did in so many inspirational movies and books. I stood waiting for someone to pull me over the beaten brick wall, and nobody did. I had to climb over, with the skill of a newborn to peer over the edge and see just were I was.
Purpose. This path, or the one with rubble, walls, sinkholes…little gremlins waiting to raid pockets filled with wonder.
Purpose is the path. Living with purpose, is choosing either path.