sounds of silence

Its early Monday morning and I am up before 5; there is a storm in the Gulf and I feel a bit anxious. The work week will begin as usual but after today, who knows. I suppose I will buy batteries, fill water containers and gasoline cans, flip over the trampoline, lock up the hens and wait. In my life, childhood and adulthood, we have never left for a hurricane – we are the stayers – the riders of the storm. We will see…

In the meantime, in this early hour, my world is silent and I am here with thoughts. At first, there are so many they bounce around in my head and some find their way to this key board but when they settle down and my hands and my head come together I have one that I decide to share, something that may reach you, something worth reading?? It’s about purpose. I know I have written about that before and it does seem to be a reoccurring theme but it’s something I think of - a lot. It seems our purpose is universal – to contribute to humanity – to recognize that we are all a piece of the same whole but, it seems, the way we achieve purpose changes throughout our lives.

My purpose as a child was very narcissistic – it needed to be, I had to get to know myself so I needed to focus on “me”. I enjoyed observing that narcissism when my kids were little – they were in the “me” world and it was kinda cute – unfortunate for society some people never grow out of that stage and it doesn't stay "cute" into adulthood.

 Next, my purpose was to please my parents, especially my mom. It was my purpose to make good, or at least semi descent, grades, be a good kid and say please and thank you – that went on for a lot of years. Then society made its way into my cozy world and threw all of its rules at me – that’s when I got pretty disturbed. I was okay with the continuing formal education stuff – but I would have rather gone to the south of France and traced van Gogh’s tracks while leaving mine, but I was still being obedient and living the life that was expected.

 Then there came the huge world of adulthood, that place after school when the world is suppose to be your "apple" – so many people to please, so many directions to take and so much crap trying to sway me – there were so many people telling me who I was and instructions on what I should do (so glad that stage is over and I am sorry I ever even took part in it – I suggest you find an alternative route if at all possible). It took a while , but now I am "here" and I love it "here" in this authenic, but ever evolving place - whew!

So, there are my two bit thoughts - take what you want from it - I believe any form of art is just suppose to draw an emotion - to make your wheels turn - so hopefully they are!! :)

What I am trying to say with this early morning, before the storm, post is that we are all an important and unique piece of this whole and each of us should make our own decision about what our purpose is. No one can tell you who you are – it doesn’t matter how many billboards you read, TV shows you watch, magazines you flip through – those “people” can’t define your purpose. It’s something only you can do – your closest friends and even your parents can’t do that for you.

Which brings me back to Isaac – if the lights go out and your world stops for a while, somewhere in that stillness you can listen to yourself, you can get in touch with your purpose perhaps (after you have taken care to be safe of course!). Sadly, sometimes it takes an extreme circumstance to make us stop and listen to our spiritual self – we are so busy being bombarded with propaganda from society and dodging ego we lose sight of our true selves, it gets lost in this world of propaganda and stuff.

 I close with that and it is my hope, my purpose, with this loosely written post that today is focused for all of us; I hope that we can find the time (without the wrath of Isaac) to sit in silence.

 “You cannot discover the purpose of life by asking someone else - the only way you'll ever get the right answer is by asking yourself”.

Terri Guillemets

And remember to just…

b u

p s