3 - Life doesn’t stop
One of the difficult things that puts a damper on finding your purpose is life. It just doesn’t stop! We can’t put our life on hold in order to find the meaning of life.
“Hey, life! Yeah, you! I’m talking to you! Slow down a bit so I can catch my breath and meditate and sing and dance and play with unicorns!” But life doesn’t listen. It’s such an ass that way.
If you decided, “Hey, I think I’ll try this ‘finding your life purpose’ thing and see what happens,” you’ve most likely hit a roadblock (or two, or three…) Things are just never easy. So that’s your first lesson.
I mean, of course life isn’t easy. That isn’t earth shattering news. But when we’re trying to discover our life purpose, we think it should be. The stars should align, the music should play, the light from the heavens should shine down upon our path and make it beautiful and noticeable. It doesn’t. Don't be discouraged.
But, Missy! If I was put on this earth for a specific purpose, one that only I can fulfil, shouldn’t it be somewhat easy to find? Yes and no.
You see, our purpose lives inside us, waiting to come out. It wants to be found. That’s why if you’re not doing what you’re supposed to be doing, you have this nagging, uncomfortable feeling. You feel restless, or annoyed, or drained.
Have you ever had a shirt that had an annoying tag? You don’t notice it at first. But after wearing it a while, you can't stop thinking about it. The skin becomes irritated. You keep trying to rearrange it so it doesn't bother you. But it does! It keeps you covered, but it’s not comfortable. It continues until you are able to change into something soft and cozy.
Our purpose is niggling us. Our soul wants to wear the metaphorical soft and cozy clothing. But we have to earn it.
I have a lot of sad/scary/crazy things that have happened to me. I’ll slowly work my way to sharing some. But for now, just know that people tell me how strong and courageous I am.
Nah, nah, nah! I am neither of those. They only think I am because that was my only choice. My only choice in all of my weird circumstances was to choose to be strong.
But was it?
I have macular degeneration in one eye. I have known about it for at least 10 years. The eye doctors (we are retired military, so they change often) like to make a big deal about it because they haven’t seen it in someone my age. Oh, about three or four years ago, something triggered the specialist to order an MRI. I was having some problems and he was absolutely certain that I had a brain tumor. He was convinced that was what was causing the problem. As I left his office, none of his staff would make eye contact. They all looked at me, and then down at the floor.
This was the beginning of December and I couldn’t get an MRI until January. After Christmas!
To say I was terrified is an understatement. I had spent much of my life wishing I hadn’t been born or wishing I wouldn’t wake up. But I had been getting therapy and was feeling better. Fate was screwing me!
The thought that I might not be here next Christmas played over and over in my brain, like a movie on repeat. You’re going to die. You’re going to die. You have wanted to die, and now you will. Your children will never realize how hard you worked to be better. You’re going to die. Over and over and over.
I tried to snap myself out of it and decided to make it the best Christmas ever. I wanted my kids to remember a fun mom, and a holiday of epic proportions!
I didn’t buy a bunch of expensive gifts. Instead, I hatched a hilarious (albeit evil) plan. I wrapped all presents, but instead of names, I put numbers on them. I made BINGO cards for each person and included fake numbers that weren’t put in the BINGO ball. I made a scavenger hunt for them to find their last, big present. I bought some family presents that we played games to see who would get to open.
It was amazing! It really was the best Christmas ever.
Until the next year, when we did it again. Better.
And the next year when we did it again. Even better.
Last year, even though I was recovering from back surgery, we did it again. The scavenger hunt had to be shorter because I couldn’t go all over the house hiding the clues. I just made each clue a puzzle they had to put together to get the next clue. It was amazing!
Spoiler alert: I didn’t have a tumor.
The moral of the story is don’t listen to your doctor. I’m just kidding! A little bit. Kidding a tiny bit.
The point is that I lived through something really hard. If you told me ten years ago, “Hey, in a few years a doctor will say you have a brain tumor.” I wouldn’t think I could handle it. And there’s absolutely no way I would think I’d laugh my way through it. Honestly, I didn’t laugh the entire time. There were moments of panic. But there was also a lot of joy. And joking. And excitement. It was a weird way to birth an amazing tradition, but here we are. It was worth it.
A doctor telling me I had a brain tumor doesn’t give my life purpose. But going through something very difficult has made me strong. I’m able to relate to people in a way that I never would have been able to do without that experience. And that does help with my purpose.
I used to wish I had found my purpose sooner. I felt like there was a lot of wasted time. But all that time that was “wasted” was me growing as a person.
Twenty years ago I thought I knew everything.
Now, I know I don’t know anything. It’s humbling.
I have been through a lot, though. A lot of horrible, hard, painful, excruciating moments that have culminated in who I am.
I will not curse it, or resent it, or ignore it. It is all there to mold me into the amazing person I am today. A person who was put on this earth to love people.
We’ve established that life is crazy. But how to continue? Later, I’ll talk more in-depth about some specific time-wasters. For now, I want you to consider doing this:
Find some time, every single day, that you can sit and think about who you are.
You may think that is dorky. You may have been raised to scoff at new-age, mumbo-jumbo crap. This isn’t that.
Do you remember when you took drivers education? Back in my day, it was taught at school. What was the first thing you did? Hop in the car? No, go back farther. What’s the very first thing you did? The very first thing you did was walk into a classroom or pick up a book to learn about driving. You learned about cars. Where is the gas pedal? Where is the windshield wiper? You learned about traffic laws. Who has the right of way at a stop sign? How far back should you be from the person driving in front of you?
This is what you are doing with yourself. Except you can’t read or take a class to learn about who you are. You have to think about it. In order to focus on that, and actually pay attention, you need to set aside time.
If you are a morning person, set your alarm for 20-30 minutes earlier. If you are a night person, instead of watching another episode of your favorite binge-show, sit and think about your likes and dislikes. If you are neither (Hey, I’ve had young kids! I know what it’s like!) find some time in the middle of the day: lunch, early afternoon, something like that.
You might think, Holy cow! Every single day?
Yes.
Did you learn to drive a car in one 20-minute session? No. And if you said yes, quit lying! What else are you doing? If you don’t have 20 minutes to set aside for yourself, you’re doing too much. You may want to consider reprioritizing some things. Everyone can carve 20 minutes out of their day. I’m not talking about going to a spa every day. Although that would be nice. I’m talking about sitting in a comfy chair for 20 minutes and just let your mind wander to things that make you happy. Honestly, you can put the toilet seat down (or up) and sit in there for 20 minutes. Focus inward for a little bit.
Carve out a sliver of time and focus on yourself.
I give you permission.