Posts Tagged ‘accomplishments’

What’s Your Higher Purpose

May 20, 2014

Or fear.

Those are my topics.

I will go with the first, although, the more I thought, the less I knew and then I thought some more, maybe that’s the whole point.

Learning.

More and more.

Experiencing more and more.

Being achingly present as much of the time as possible, even when I would rather check out with Netflix, when is Orange is the New Black back?

Never mind.

I actually don’t need to know.

One thought was to be of service in my community by being a kick ass nanny.

I love my boys, even when they are boys and boy oh boy, were they ever today.

And I love my girls.

I love all the little monkeys I have been graced to work with.

“You’re really good with kids,” the mom said to me as she picked up her daughter from swim lessons, over twenty-three years ago when I was teaching Tiny Tot swim lessons and Mom and Tot.

“You should be a teacher,” she concluded.

In a way, that is a big part of my job.

I teach.

Patience.

Sharing.

Love.

Tolerance.

Kindness.

Generosity.

How to laugh, giggle, play, be silly, blow bubbles, communication of needs, I teach daily and without thought.

I also teach numbers and letters, colors, directions, manners, catch, fetch, sand castle digging, fort building, dancing, singing, hand eye co-ordination, sign language.

I am sure I am forgetting something in there.

I don’t have a degree in Education or Early Childhood Training, but I have a knack and I am not going to deny that.

The very act of getting down on the ground and hanging out with a child is not intuitive to all people, tons of adults have no clue how to interact with children.

I do.

That is definitely a higher purpose.

I mean, come on, taking care of children is a looked down upon profession yet, the most successful thing we can do as a society, is just that, take care of our children.

Even if there is not the kind of reward that comes with signing a book deal or making a movie or being a social networking maven.

Which I am good at as well.

That thought crossed my mind, I am good at connecting people.

I am a people person.

I meet people, I get there names, I talk,  smile, I engage.

I welcome.

It’s just something I do.

I suppose that has something to do with being genuine and that attracts people and I am open to new situations and trying new things, wherein, I meet more people.

I like connecting people to each other.

I like that I went to Burning Man and said, hey you and you, and yeah, you too, you need to go.

And they did.

Now, I am not the reason they went, but sharing my experiences with them helped that decision.

“He said I should get a hold of you about moving to Barcelona since you moved to Paris,” the message read.

“Go.”

I didn’t need to send anything else.

Go.

I went.

I did it.

You can to.

To inspire.

That is a higher purpose.

I have asked men on dates, jumped on trampolines, moved to Paris, danced in the dj booth of big name dj’s, I did the AidsLifeCycle ride, I got a black belt in Shaolin, I started a blog and keep writing it every day.

Inspire people to follow their heart.

I dyed my hair.

That is a big deal.

To be my authentic self.

There’s nothing wrong with colorful, insert clothing, tattoo, hair, here.

Be yourself.

Have fucking fun with it.

Wear a tutu to work.

Or your pajamas.

Stick flowers in your hair.

Get a pink jack-a-lope tattoo.

Laugh.

Have loud sex.

Kiss people.

Hug hard and long.

Dream.

Wear your heart on your sleeve and be you, because, no matter how similar we are, there’s only really one you.

Or me.

Perhaps my purpose is to help the still suffering.

To pass on my experience, strength, and hope.

To be happy, joyous, free.

That’s probably my biggest purpose.

And my most precious.

To save my life by helping someone else with similar issues is an amazing gift.

One that I never thought I wanted or needed or had a purpose for.

You want me to what?

Are you high?

OH.

Ok.

Let me try that.

Perhaps my higher purpose is to write.

But not write for accolades, honor, esteem, money.

Just to write for the act of being able to do it, the joy of it, the sound of my fingers flying over the keyboard, a song of life and meaning that means almost nothing to any one else, but me.

Or the feel of a good pen on good paper.

Maybe my higher purpose is to be happy.

Really.

Just that.

As happy as I can be.

Whatever that looks like, however that evolves and to love.

Yeah.

That’s what it is.

My higher purpose is to love.

I get to do that at work.

I love my charges.

That is something.

How many folks can say they love their bosses?

My bosses are fabulous, sometimes a bit moody, or pushy, or bossy, “PUFFFFFS! SNACKS!”

Then again, how many folks have bosses that blow them kisses, hug them, dance with them, and fall asleep in their arms, I get to love and be loved at my job.

That is a higher purpose indeed.

I suppose it’s really to live this life, my life, the only one I have got, to the best of my ability, as full and rich and pulsating with purpose as I can make it.

To get the fuck out the way of my life and let it happen.

To walk through whatever fear I have and live anyway.

If I narrow the field too small, if I find “the higher purpose” for me, perhaps I wouldn’t have so much fun looking and trying things out.

I am still learning.

And if I don’t know what exactly my higher purpose is, I am ok with that.

Besides.

I know I am on the right track.

And that is enough.

 

 

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