What is my Purpose?

“The soul would much rather fail at its own life than succeed at someone else's" David Whyte

When I was thirteen unbeknownst to me, I was about to make a life choice that would have repercussions in what kind of adult I would become. I had just completed my second year in middle school and joined the ranks of the popular bad girls club. Every Friday evening, at the boarding Catholic Girls School, there was Demerits Time. There was perhaps one other girl who got more demerits than I did. We all stood attention where ever we were on campus when the loud speaker tapping sounds emerged. Our headmistress, Sister Mary Colony would clear her throat and declare. The following girls must report to the administration building at once. Then the litany of names, with those of us who had more than one demerit being repeated several times. I would match gallantly to the office building, often with cheers from my dorm mates.

My school life was rapidly spinning out of control and I had a sense of this but couldn't care less. My friends and I would every night try to outwit the Night Teacher who came to the dorms after lights out to make sure we were all in our beds. There were times I was the Watch Out Girl for my friends who would be smoking cigarettes behind the remotely located Saint Maria's dormitory. For those of us who had many demerits, we were sent to the school farm for hard labor, at the base of the hill where our school was located. I was unfazed.

Then I came home for the summer holidays. I knew my mother had received my school report which recounted my bad grades and demerits. Ma never said anything to me about any of this. But one evening, I got the message loud and clear.  Ma was sitting on a chair alone in the dining room, when I stumbled upon her.  We were alone in the house since my siblings had gone out for their various social endeavors. I took one close look at her and I saw tears running down her cheeks. I was stumped. Ma was my hero. She was the warrior who made many people tremble in their boots when they crossed her path. I saw her as resilient, stoic, determined and taking all of the many life punches she had been dealt with including the death of my father when she was only 30. I hugged her for a long moment. No words were exchanged, but there was no need.

Fork in the Road

When I returned to middle school that fall I was a new person. When my Bad Girl club friends would approach me with our usual hip greetings, I behaved like I couldn't hear them. I shunned every one of them and buried myself in my studies. That year, my grades reversed and I was near the top of my class again. Aside from sports, I was pretty much glued to my studies and chose my friends very carefully. I changed from a boisterous all of the place character to a quiet introspective girl.  Years later, I became school prefect and received so many prizes that Ma couldn't carry all my book awards in her arms.  School Prefect is reserved for academically proficient kids who are also well behaved.

In hindsight my 360 degrees transformation was one of those forks in the road that we often make without giving it the necessary celebration it warrants. I had chosen the empowered path over the ultimately disempowered one. I could easily have grown up to be an adult without the career successes needed to help me be the fulfilled independent woman that my soul wanted of me. The alternative diminutive paths were numerous. Prostitution or marrying men with multiple wives so that I could be cared for physically.  This is the path many women from where I grew up have had to choose.

What about purpose?

I don't know about the rest of you, but I often wish we came to life with clear direction about what our purpose is. I have struggled with the philosophical enigma of destiny versus choice. Some say all of life is a strong of coincidences. Others say life is a stage. A place where we the actors play out a script, for the amusement of Cosmic Beings. Does our God-given strengths or talents point us to our purpose? I'm not so sure about that.  If I was a talented illustrator (I'm not), does it mean my purpose has something to do with the Arts?

I'm more inclined to go with Eastern philosophy when I contemplate subjects related to meaning and life. Western philosophy mostly emphasizes individualism while our collective well-being is championed by the Eastern view. We as humans in many ways are fathered by the external forces of the earth plain and mothered by the spiritual forces within. Those spiritual forces prod us to tend to our 'isms' in order to be able to let our lights shine. Which brings me back to the subject of "Purpose."

It seems to me our purpose has to do with what good we are uniquely suited for and passionate about bringing to our world.