I started writing what I thought would be an autobiographical book years ago when I was a young divorcée with two little kids and madly in love with someone who was out of reach. God had other plans for us. The title I decided on was "The Story of Me Begins with Us". I never realized then the weight of those words because I had to live so much life to understand it. As a matter of fact, it will unfold here on earth until I die and I believe it will continue somewhere else when I do. I never got more than a few pages in. My life was chaotic and exhausting, but a really beautiful unraveling, slow though it might've been, of a story of purpose.
Last night, sick with a nagging cold, I went through with plans some new friends and I had made a couple of weeks ago. I made us roasted chicken, warm kale with olive oil and garlic, and sweet potato mash. We finished our meal and went to see a movie called "After Death" that I had suggested. My friends are not the kind of people to shy away from a title like that. Lucky me! When the movie ended, we were initially oblivious to the movie goers leaving because we were engrossed in conversation about the movie and personal anecdotes. Suddenly, I looked around and saw a mostly empty theater, save half a dozen small clusters of folks, doing the same thing we were. It nearly brought me to tears. Why are we all here? Why live this? Why? Just why anything? No one can claim to know the answer. But in open, honest, and vulnerable dialogue the most miraculous things are uncovered. This is only but a facet, a sliver of what underlies our "existence". As far as purpose, well, that seems to be a "you" thing. If you listen extraneously anyway.
But is it really?
I am sitting writing this after being moved by an Instagram post by the renowned veterinarian Noel Fitzpatrick. He is a maverick in veterinary surgery, taking risks and chances, inventing new techniques and apparatuses as he macgyvers the seemingly irreparable maladies of his animal patients. The post showed a grateful dog looking lovingly into Noel's eyes before going home to his human family. In his post he writes, "Faith, prayer and medicine got him through that.."
He went on to say, "And so a 17 year old Irish boy hoping to go to vet school but with no hope of changing the world-did change the world in that moment." The post got more and more emotional and more personal as he wrote from his heart.
As I cried in my kitchen reading the love and truth in his words. I felt so deeply in my soul that he had touched the sublime. He found the Holy Grail. He lives his purpose. And more importantly, he puts it all out there for anyone who'll listen. This is a man who got the message and is running with it as if on fire, despite all the odds, despite the worst of all malevolence, his self-doubt. He just keeps going. And in that moment of pursuing genuine purpose, he changed the world.
The title of my "book" was meant to be my life story up to that point, albeit with a strong romantic undercurrent. None of it came to pass but I still really love that title. But for a different reason. The story of me, the story of each person, I believe, should start with purpose for us all. What I mean is, purpose is not building wealth, having good relationships, the perfect house, living off the grid, excelling at school or work, volunteerism, rescuing animals, philanthropy, etc. Not for the sake of those things, anyway. Those can be lovely fringe benefits that can be of great value to the world, to all of us. True purpose isn't devoid of authenticity or love for that matter. You simply cannot fake either. When you are in your naked truth and spring from a place of love, you are seated behind the wheel with your foot on the gas. The only thing left to do is press on the gas.
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