A Sense of Purpose

Learning to see grand purpose in everyday being

I have always been searching for what my purpose is.

 As a child, I seemed to feel early on that it was to help others. I could discuss childhood dynamics here and what may have led to this, but that’s for another story.

Fast forward, I became a social worker. No surprise there. This, I thought, would fulfill my sense of purpose and wanting to be of service to the world, wanting to fulfill what I might be here for.

I don’t regret my career now that I am retired. I hope that I was able to help a few others along the way. 

But it was not my purpose. 

So, what was, I wondered.

And now that I have entered the land of elderhood, what is left to do? Did I even come close to finding what that purpose was, or is?

I find that I love to write. I wish I had focused on that earlier, but I am grateful to be spending time doing that now. It brings me a sense of fulfillment and a sense of connection with those who may resonate with some of the words that I write. It gives my soul a channel to speak through. 

I have always loved to draw. Now I paint. I can lose time when in front of a piece of art that I am working on. That is a mystical feeling. It gives me a sense of something greater than me coming through me if I only step out of the way. 

I love animals. So much that it hurts sometimes, when I see how we, at times, can treat them in our world. Could I have done work with animals? It wasn’t an option that I was familiar with back when I started college. It didn’t feel like a real choice. My upbringing led to other fields. I think I would have loved working with animals and working toward protecting them, their survival and that of the earth.

Now I volunteer at our local zoo with the elephants. It brings such a deep sense of connection with nature and these sacred magical creatures. I am grateful.

I love the majestic redwoods and our parks. I feel a connection with them when I touch them. Might I have done something along those lines? Park ranger, perhaps. Maybe. 

Now I go for frequent walks among these beautiful trees, these majestic beings that feel ancestral to me. They help calm me. They let me know that I am of the earth and part of them. Under a tree is where I will plan to have what is left of me scattered, in a way that nourishes the tree and doesn’t harm it. I even found an organization that does this, mixes your remains with the right minerals to be of benefit to the tree that you choose. Perfect. 

Still, what is my purpose now, as a 70-year-old woman? 

I think I was looking to my choice of career to fulfill whatever my purpose was supposed to be. It can be part of it, certainly, but not totally. At least not for me. 

I was married at one point, for 12 years. But I did not feel the calling to have children. I did not feel the calling to be a mother, which is a beautiful and sacred calling. But not for me. 

So, here I am still questioning my purpose.

I think that I was always looking for my purpose to be a grand statement, something huge and of great importance. Something so much bigger than I could ever be. Purpose with a capital P. 

I think on a smaller scale now, in the grandness of small gestures, small kindnesses, in using who and what we are to hopefully contribute to a better world, in our own small way. 

Maybe my purpose has been to find my way back home to myself all along. To stop trying to be other than what I am. To express who and what I am to the world, to finally use my voice and simply be me. To spread kindness and love in my own unique way. By smiling at random strangers as I walk down the street. By engaging in conversation with various people that I encounter, even at grocery stores or coffee shops. By helping them feel seen and heard. By offering that small piece of me to them to make genuine contact in those moments. Moments that may change the direction of their day in the same way that kindness from others can change the direction of mine. 

I am learning that it’s ok to do my small part. To be a good friend. To listen. To contribute where and when I can. And it’s ok to also spend large amounts of time with this self within me that I have tried to mold and shift and change the shape of, but who has been perfectly fine all along. Who may have had things to say and gifts to offer if she was only listened to and allowed to speak her voice and feelings. 

I can do that now. I can keep working on being more and more authentic, speaking my truth, spending time with those that I choose, and offering what might be my gifts to those around me. 

 Perhaps our purpose is that each of us comes with unique gifts to offer, and that we need to learn to recognize those, stop judging them, stop trying to compare them to others, and open the channels that have blocked those gifts from flowing into the world.

Might it also be that it is never too late to do that? I hope so. 

I think that part of my purpose, now as an elder, is to realize that we still have time to be who we are. We are still here, still alive. I can now work to spread that message to others, as I continue to encourage that ongoing unfolding within myself. 

 I can hold a lantern out for others who may make some use of the light that is still within me. To encourage them and to cheer them on in their own journey. To help them feel a bit less alone for a few moments in time. 

As Ram Dass wrote, “We are all just walking each other home.” That home is also inside of each of us. We can recognize and honor that in each other as we walk our own paths. 

My sense of purpose is no longer capitalized. It’s not so grand, perhaps. But no less important and magnificent, in its own way, and so very much closer to home.