day ten: purpose
Whatever you’re meant to do, do it now. The conditions are always impossible.
-Doris Lessing
Did you ever wonder about your purpose in life—desperately wanting to make a difference but not clear about what to do or how to go about it? I did. I falsely believed that one day something would hit me over the head, and it’d be crystal clear. The path would appear out of nowhere like it did for Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, and I’d start walking with a clear destination ahead of me. Or maybe for you, the messages you received from the world about what you should do, or what your family or society expected you to do, drowned out the sound of your own voice.
Years ago, when I unexpectedly got pregnant with my son, it seemed like a detour, but it gave my life immediate focus that I liked. There was a clear mission: deliver this child safely to adulthood. There was also a clear deadline: his 18th birthday. Once I met that milestone, however, I was left with a wide open space, a blank page and no clear purpose. After dropping Joe off at college, I set off on a gap year to figure things out.
Through the generosity of a friend, part of that time was spent in a farmhouse in rural upstate New York. Last year was a long, hard winter and I was often iced-in alone—dog and hot mug in tow. On the tags of my Yogi tea, inspiring messages like empty yourself and let the universe fill you, what’s yours shall come to you and let things come to you guided me. According to my warm beverages’ wisdom, a lot was meant to be coming to me, but nothing seemed to be arriving.
Then one day, standing in the yard, looking at the frozen landscape something hit me. The lilac tree isn’t sitting here all winter wondering, what it should be—come springtime. It’s not torturing itself thinking maybe this year it’d be way better or more fulfilling to be a hydrangea bush or an apple tree. It’s waiting for the ideal conditions and the right time, and then it will bloom—lush and fragrant—it knows what it was born to be. And so, I started to live like the lilac, trusting that nothing could stop my purpose, my reason for being—it was already encoded in my DNA. And so is yours.
Deepak Chopra said, We are absolutely necessary in the grand scheme of things. The universe needs you in a unique way, because only you can have the experience that your life represents. I’m here to tell you that your voice, your life, matter. What you do doesn’t have to be grand. It can be a mission to save the planet or a mission to save your marriage. It can be a conversation. A moment of presence or patience. It can be a work of art or an artful email.
Mary Oliver said, Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
Tell me—I’m listening.
Reflective Journal Prompts
Write what you would be doing if nothing was holding you back. If the world was going to end in two weeks or two months or two years time—what would you do?
How are you different from anyone else? What specific traits do you have to offer the world?
If a genie came out of a bottle and told you—you could do or be anything—what would you say? Ask children this question.
Discussion Prompts
Talk about how you answered what do you want to be when you grow up versus what you became. If the answers are different from each other, what happened?
Suggested Action
Take an action that comes from your deepest longing—your secret wish about what you want to do or who you want to be. As Martin Luther King said, faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase. Why wait till life gets back to normal to take this first step—what better time than today to take one step on the staircase?
Further Reading
I received messages saying that the poem yesterday was appreciated. Here’s one sent by a fellow participant:
The Buddha’s Last Instruction by Mary Oliver
Make of yourself a light,
said the Buddha,
before he died.
I think of this every morning
as the east begins
to tear off its many clouds
of darkness, to send up the first
signal - a white fan
streaked with pink and violet,
even green.
An old man, he lay down
between two sala trees,
and he might have said anything,
knowing it was his final hour.
The light burns upward,
it thickens and settles over the fields.
Around him, the villagers gathered
and stretched forward to listen.
Even before the sun itself
hangs, disattached, in the blue air,
I am touched everywhere
by its ocean of yellow waves.
No doubt he thought of everything
that had happened in his difficult life.
And then I feel the sun itself
as it blazes over the hills,
like a million flowers on fire-
clearly I’m not needed
yet I feel myself turning
into something of inexplicable value.
Slowly, beneath the branches,
he raised his head.
He looked into the faces of that frightened crowd.
Daily Images: my brother, Robert Fiordaliso