Years ago I discovered my purpose in life here on Earth. I read books and conducted informational interviews and took classes and danced with death and asked strangers on the bus to help me identify my purpose. When it was finally revealed after much suffering, I will admit I was terribly disappointed. I was told my sole purpose in life is to be of maximum service to God and my fellows. Snoozer! What like - picking up litter? Volunteering my time, talents, resources at no charge? I mean, how many community service hours is required to fulfill this goal? Certain there was an oversight in the doling out of purposes, I continued my search for something a wee more glamorous.
Fame? I can sing and dance and act beautifully - in my living room. No producers have knocked on my door yet.
Money? My get-rich-quick schemes are not so quick and they end up costing me more money than I make.
Power? Nope. Turns out, I am powerless.
Fast forward to present day. Apparently, glamorous isn't my destiny. And without my permission, without feeling like it, without wanting to - being of service brings me joy. Being of service allows me to feel useful in a way I could never manage before. Being of service quiets my head, settles my nerves, fills my soul. Answering the phone when they call; reading to them once a month; organizing that gathering every second Thursday; listening when I am busy; saying yes when I am thinking no; driving when I want to stay home; complimenting instead of criticizing; speaking up when passivity seems easier; hugging when punching is an option; loving no matter what.
I learned a long time ago that wanting to and feeling like it are irrelevant when dealing in service work. I rarely want to and I hardly ever feel like it and yet - I do. Fulfilling my purpose isn't about me. Shocking! and beautiful at the same time.
Lori Ann Dinkins
One blog at a time, I write the truth about my life as it is, as I hope it will be, as I wish it would have been. Business insights and personal triumphs. Thank you for joining me.