What is my purpose in life?

And why do I feel so awful sharing good news?

This week has been tremendously heavy. As much joy as I initially felt finally meeting the small cottage that would be my home for the next month, I have found the loneliness and isolation strike me much harder and much faster than anticipated.

Alone time is like Kyrptonite for me. I crave it when I’m in a crowd of people. Desperate to be on my own, free from painful conversation and constant wondering if I’m good enough, pretty enough, smart enough.

A few days alone and I’m desperate for human contact. A smile. A hug. Someone to take me out of the constant chatter of my mind and the thoughts that oh so quickly twist themselves into knots around the rocks still wedged in my body.

Am I doing enough?

Am I good enough?

Am I making a difference?

If I disappeared, would anyone even notice?

I want to believe that I'm here for reason. Or at least, I used to. But it's getting harder for me to believe I was sent here from the stars for some soul mission. It feels a little naive to think that I'm that special. 

I took my doubt to the cliffs this week.

Not metaphorically. Literally. I trudged through mud and sheep shit in the rain and found the edge of the greenest fucking cliffs I have ever seen. I faced the black rocky beach and raging Scottish sea. And I yelled.

“EVERYTHING IS SO CONFUSING!”
“WHAT IS ALL OF THIS?”
“HOW DID THESE ROCKS GET HERE?”
“WHAT AM I DOING? WHAT IS WATER? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHAT DO I DO NEXT?”

I started sobbing, then raised my arms up high and wide and tried again.

“OK UNIVERSE. I SURRENDER. I’M READY FOR WHATEVER YOU HAVE TO SHOW ME. I SURRENDER TO YOUR PLAN AND TRUST THAT WHATEVER YOU HAVE IN STORE FOR ME IS EXACTLY WHAT I NEED. I SURRENDER.”

Suddenly—and I feel like a dick for even writing this—a rainbow appeared across the water. A fucking rainbow. 

“If that’s not magic, I don’t know what is,” I mumbled.

Looking around at the cliffs, I started to wonder about purpose. About this constant need I have to make meaning of my life. To fulfill some great, legacy-building purpose. I feel constantly pressured to have purpose. To do something worthwhile. Not even for other people, but at least for me. How could I die and look back without being able to say, “I did do some pretty meaningful stuff”?

I want my life to have purpose because then I keep going. I don’t have much will to live without a purpose. Whether that’s to see everything, try new experiences, or help people, purpose gives me movement. And I gotta move or I’ll die in the stillness.

So in this stillness I’m in here, I’m very afraid.

What if I start dying again?
What if I can’t survive the stillness?
And can I find meaning in the motionlessness?

I do believe that everything has a reason. Looking at the mountains in the distance (beyond the actual rainbow that yes, did appear, I know) I thought, “even the smallest little rocks have a reason. I might not be the entire mountain but I'm a part of it. And in that way, we all have purpose.”

We're all a small building block of something greater than ourselves. And maybe some of us are bigger pieces than others, but it doesn't mean that we don't all have an underlying purpose. Some reason for being here some even if fleeting. Actual, real purpose on this planet for the function and flow of the equilibrium of the universe.

So what’s my purpose?

I wanted to share the story of the rainbow earlier this week, but I didn’t.

Sometimes part of me wishes that stories like this weren't true, because I feel like an ass when I share anything that has to do with my joy or something that feels too magical to explain, but is somehow real. Because I know not everyone is experiencing joy right now. Not everyone is experiencing magic. And part of me feels ashamed for the magic. Shame for the joy.

I try to remind myself that it took a lot of work and effort to find joy. More time still to feel joy. I couldn’t see or believe the joy that was present in my life for a very long time. I was unable to experience or participate in the magic of my life because I simply believed I didn't even deserve it at all.

Now, I do believe I deserve joy. I believe we all do. And I believe it shows up in different ways for all of us, as does the magic. The magic shows up however we need it—or I suppose in whatever our minds find magical.

For me, that moment was magical. I walked to the edge of a cliff in a foreign country—one that I found the courage to come to by myself—and yelled my fears to the ocean.

How could it not be? The timing? The fact that it was right in front of me? The fact that it came moments after I did the thing that I have suppressed and repressed for years and years: feel my feelings and be truthful? That to me was magic.

Maybe it's not magic for you. Maybe your magic lies in other places and other people and other moments that feel just so utterly magic to you. And I hope that you let yourself feel the magic. I hope you let yourself feel the joy. I hope you let yourself feel it all because everything is so confusing, and really, we don't know what the hell we're doing here. At least I don't. So for now, for a little while. I'm going to try and enjoy it. 

That, today, is my purpose.

Be in joy. Enjoy.

---

Did this post resonate? Questions? Leave your comments! I’m here to chat.

XX -Rachel