A “soul purpose”, a “personal legend”, a “life mission”. I’ve heard it called many names, but they all mean the same thing. It’s knowing what we want to do with our lives, knowing how we fit/belong, and doing what we’re supposed to do.
Every time I hear a story of someone finding their thing, I am awash with hope and envy. If someone found their thing, I could find mine! 🙂 But what is it?? 🙁
I read articles and books and watched videos of people talking about finding their purpose, searching for clues and markers from their journey to use in mine. But like the millions of people in the world, no two stories were exactly the same.
Some found it by accident, some just woke up knowing. Some suffered or watched others suffer and decided on theirs. Some found themselves already doing it without knowing the concept. Some found meaning in what they were doing or built their careers and later realised it was right. Some heard a calling.
So I vacillated between looking for my purpose and giving up on it entirely. Trying to come at it sideways or diagonally (“you can’t chase happiness so you chase what brings happiness” thinking). Noting every single thing that I was doing just in case I already was doing it. Tried answering “why do you do what you currently do” and “what would you do if money was not a problem / if you had no responsibilities”. I looked at future regrets and current yearnings. I searched my journals and used every spiritual tool I could find.
And everything worked.
A few things kept popping up: writing. journaling. blogging. teaching.
You know what I did with all the information? I pshhed it.
These are the things that I must do, want to do, will do even on my worst days. These are the things that make my heart sing, makes me feel happier, lighter, easier. These are the things that if I don’t do them, I feel all sorts of wrong.
I found what I was looking for, and I psshhed it.
Turns out my problem isn’t a lack of mission or purpose. I have one — well, a few. Neither was my problem finding my path(s).
My problem was a feeling of unworthiness.
I want to be a writer, a blogger, a teacher. I want to make money / live a life / support myself with my words… I can say that to myself easily, in secret and privately, but I don’t dare to say this out loud.
I’m embarrassed by the idea that I want to be a blogger. Full of imposter syndrome when I want to say “I’m a writer”. Filled by thoughts of “who do you think you are?” when I’m thinking of teaching. And the scoffing sounds of “is journaling even a job??”
All the different flavours of “I’m not enough. I’m not good enough, worthy enough, smart enough, or anything enough.”
It’s a completely different issue from not knowing something. That’s technical knowledge. I can learn to build a blog (I have), I can figure out how to write and publish a book (I have), I can start teaching (I have) and I can fill journals with my words…
(Yeah.)
Right here, right now, I’m already doing it.
Yet I push “go” and at the same time I pull “stop”. I write and blog and teach and journal but I don’t allow myself to do a good job. I let myself write, but I don’t allow any chance of success. I gave myself enough permission to try… so long as I fail.
(And it’s not just work. I chose a relationship type that would never truly succeed. In school I could excel in some subjects because I had one that I spectacularly failed. And I start important things by failing — going up a kerb right before a driving test, wearing an unironed shirt open over a tank top and jeans for a job interview…
It seems that if there were eyes going to be on me, I must play the failure, or the fool.)
Not enough, not worthy, the glass ceiling I made for myself was “fail first. and fail a lot. and if success happens to come then that’s the best you’re going to get… until you fail. again.”
No wonder I’m typing from home instead of the office, nursing a heart healing from a relationship ending, working a few hours on weekends teaching, and struggling to build something and do something with my life.
I kept thinking I needed more information, more tools, more searching.
So silly when this blog (and all my other blogs, and my journals) are on this table staring me in the face.
When I was really searching for permission, self-worth, self-love, and the feeling that I’m enough.
I’ve been listening to Brené Brown and her work with vulnerability and shame and love and happiness and whole-hearted living is changing me. It also helps that Eckankar is helping me learn the same messages. And TED talks are opening my mind as well as making me cry.
I know what I want. I have my dreams. And now I know how I want to get there. (note to self: writing, teaching, blogging, journaling.)
And to get there, I want to continue the journey to loving myself, reminding myself every day that I am loved, I love myself, and that I am enough.
There are no pre-requisites to love. And it’s only when I believe I am worthy, believe I am loveable, believe I am enough, that I’ll be okay.
It’s that simple.
Just believe.
❤️🌧️
Image of a flower called gypsophila by Bruno /Germany from Pixabay.
Also known as baby’s breath, these flowers look like paper or lace.
