Dear Colleagues and Friends,
Happy February! I am writing to you from my brother and
sister-in-law’s home in Wisconsin, looking out on a beautiful
winter scene of squirrels and birds scampering for seed in the
snow. To my delight, a pair of cardinals has landed on the bird
feeder, dazzling me with their bright red wings. How apropos, as I
ready myself to write about the “call to purpose” - that dimension
of life wherein we invite, inspire and invoke our hearts to take
wing.
Albert Einstein once wrote, “Strange is our situation here on
earth. Each of us comes for a short visit, not knowing why, yet
sometimes seeming to divine a purpose.” Aristotle asserted that
one’s purpose is merely a matter of knowing where one’s talents
and the needs of the world intersect. We know of what they speak.
When we think about people we’ve known who were the most content,
who exude the most joy, and who model the most wholesome and
healthy lives, we see a common thread among them - their time and
talent was spent for something beyond their own personal welfare.
Look more closely and we will find that their time was not “spent”
at all – it was “invested”, whether in a profession, for a cause,
or in the well-being of the people closest to their hearts.
People who have found a path of authentic service in the world
emanate a sense of deep satisfaction and contentment that goes
deeper than what we think of as ordinary “happiness”. I believe
that is a quality of joy that every human being seeks – the joy of
making a difference and leaving a legacy for others to follow. The
resounding message from the great spiritual traditions as well as
from contemporary psychology is the same: Humans are not happy
simply consuming and pursuing creature comforts, although Lord
knows we give it a good try! Only by discovering and then
creatively utilizing our unique combination of gifts in a way that
serves something bigger than ourselves can we ever feel the deep
satisfaction of a life well lived. As an ardent and impassioned
believer in the idea of “true livelihood” – I use the term to mean
that we are true to, among other things, our deepest, highest and
most cherished purposes.
We all know stories of people who had a clear sense of purpose
– individuals who heard a call, pursued a dream, focused on a
goal, and rose above their circumstances to lead extraordinary
lives. We can easily point to the likes of Mother Theresa, Nelson
Mandela, Mahatma Gandhi, Cesar Chavez, Rosa Parks or Joan of Arc
as examples of individuals whose lives were aflame with purpose.
This discussion, however, is not about those lucky few whose grand
purposes and unifying vision were clear cut and straightforward. I
want to write, instead, about the rest of us more ordinary people
whose purposes are fuzzier and less certain – for those of us who
know we have wings of purpose, but who are unsure of the piece of
sky in which we are meant to take flight.
As a young Catholic girl fascinated with the stories of saints,
I anxiously awaited “the call” – perhaps a burning bush, the voice
of angels breaking through the heavens, if not a short personal
visit from the Blessed Mother. I remember well the hopeful
anticipation of a sign that would relieve the ache in my young
heart to know that I, too, had a part to play that could make a
difference in some small corner of the world. I can see now that
my childhood ambition to become a nun was my ace in the hole – in
the event that “the call” never came, I would simply choose a path
that seemed purposeful and holy enough. Little did I know as a
fledgling bird that there would be not just one sky, but many
skies into which I would try my wings and know the joy of feeling
useful. Yet, in some ways I am still like that child, wondering
with sweet anticipation what future skies I will know in the
second half of my life. As I wait and wonder now, however, I have
the solace of knowing a f ew things I did not know then. Among
them are the following:
1. Working in a “purposeful profession” does not always mean
that we are fulfilling our unique purpose.
I meet people all the time who work for schools, agencies or
organizations involved in the noble and challenging work of
assisting individuals to enter (or reenter) the world of work.
Unfortunately, many of the people I meet express (or reflect) that
they feel burned out, discouraged and disheartened. They look
tired, not just around the eyes, but in their spirits - as if
nursing a broken wing.
There is a theory that suggests that burnout results from
trying to give what we do not ourselves possess. From this
perspective, while burnout is a state of emptiness to be sure, it
may not result from giving all we have: it may merely reveal the
nothingness from which we were trying to give in the first place!
In other words, just because we are in a role of service does not
mean that we are connected in the way in which we are meant to
serve. For example, the person who is meant to be a teacher but is
working as a social worker or the social worker who finds herself
in the role of bureaucrat- it’s like asking an apple tree to
produce lemons. Trust me – we, like the tree, will exhaust
ourselves quickly trying to produce what is not in our nature to
produce.
Throughout our livelihoods we need to return to the essential
question, “Am I using my time and talents in accordance with my
deepest and highest purposes?” If not, we need to consider what we
can be doing to bring them into stronger alignment. This imbalance
may signal the need for a job change or it could simply point to
the need to give to the world outside the confines of the job. For
example, the person who is not able to fulfill the desire to work
towards social justice through employment may consider
contributing to a cause through a community project, a voluntary
agency, or a political action group. One way or another, I think
our deepest purposes will persist in their pleading to be played
out in one arena or another – not unlike the flower pleading to
blossom on the tree on its way to becoming fruit.
2. Rather than wait for the one, grandiose, high-flying call of
purpose, we need to be responsive to the simpler, ongoing calls
that spring from a purpose-filled life.
Living a life of great purpose is not reserved for a lucky few
- for the divinely inspired, the extremely powerful, or the
uniquely talented. Playing a part that we deem meaningful is the
birthright of every human being, whether we use our gifts changing
public policy, delivering a warm meal to elders in the community,
or teaching our children to love themselves and the world. If you
look back on your life I think you will see that you have been
moved to fulfill some purpose not once, but over and over again,
if only in small but meaningful ways. It would behoove us to
change our thinking from the expectation of that there will be one
grand “call to purpose” to the idea that we will live a lifetime
of ongoing, simultaneous callings!
We play multiple roles in our lives including that of child,
parent, sibling, aunt or uncle, neighbor, citizen, voter,
employee, co-worker, supervisor, colleague, advocate, etc. Is it
possible that we are called daily in different ways in each of
these roles? Rather than wait to know what grandiose purpose we
are to serve in our lives, what if we simply asked now and then,
“In what new ways am I being called in all areas of my life?”
Surely as the mother of a seventeen year old, I am being called to
act and respond in different ways than when my daughter was five
or ten or fourteen years of age. As a daughter, the ante is being
upped in relationship to my mother as she ages and her needs
intensity and change. I realize now that I need not await any
heavenly signs to know my purpose; I need only to look in the eyes
of the people in whose lives I already play a part to know how I
am being called to fresh purposes. We need to look around at all
times in the world in which w e live, work and play, realizing
that it is all holy ground – every corner of it inviting us to
bring our best.
3. Rather than impose our purposes on our lives, we need to be
responsive to the purposes that choose us!
J.R.R. Tolkien gifted us with a supreme example of responding
to a call of purpose in his “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy. Here
Frodo, with no credentials whatsoever - the
never-been-out-of-the-Shire regular guy kind of hobbit from the
outskirts of Middle Earth, decides to bear the ring he has
innocently inherited on the jaunting journey to its destruction.
Surrounded by other creatures with more skill, intelligence and
knowledge of the world, (and many of them very scary, indeed), he
sees the task fall to him and he claims it. Sometimes we are like
the hobbit Frodo, called to work and to situations we didn’t
really choose. At other times we are like the faithful Sam Wise,
the loyal counterpart playing a supporting role to others who
actually carry the ring, but without whom the task would never be
accomplished. Regardless of the role we are called to, sometimes
we know that we are part of a plan not of our own making.
Think back on the times in your life when you felt called to
serve, give or make a difference in someone else’s life. Those
calls probably didn’t come in the form of a burning bush, but a
burning desire in your own heart to respond to someone in need, to
speak up in a situation, or to simply play a role that you knew
you had to play – whether or not you asked to play it! Learning to
listen to the promptings within our own hearts is essential in
living a purpose-filled life as we are the only ones who hold the
key to unlock that particular treasure. In the words of Rainier
Marie Rilke from his book, Letters to a Young Poet, “Think of the
world you carry within you… Be attentive to that which rises up in
you and set it above everything that you observe about you. What
goes on in your innermost being is worthy of your whole love and
attention. You must somehow keep listening and responding to the
inner call.”
4. We have to believe that we are all being called to purpose!
In last month’s issue of this newsletter I shared that my
favorite place to begin in job targeting was with the question,
“What do you love?” Well, my second favorite question is, “What do
you care about?” Rather than asking what the world has to offer,
what if we changed our question to “What do we have to give and
where do we plan to give it?” What issue, cause or arena of work
stirs your imagination or sets your heart on fire? Knowing that
life is temporary and tomorrow is not promised, what kind of work
would you find worthy of your precious time and talent?
My heart has been broken time and again by working with people
for whom those questions have never arisen – people who have never
entertained the notion that they have something valuable and
useful to offer. (Many individuals who grew up with disabilities
know this all too well.) What if we were to assume that we are
called in every situation, in every role in life – especially in
the ways in which we work? Surely believing that we have a purpose
is the first step in discovering what it is!
I think of purpose as a current in the river of our lives, much
like blood in our veins. We don’t need to create it, we need to
let it find us. How do we hear it knocking on the door above the
cacophony of pagers, telephones, and traffic? We need to hear the
voice of purpose calling above the insistent voice in our own
heads that chides us into believing that with so much yet undone,
we can’t afford the luxury of paying attention to purpose or to
passion. We know the truth - once we hear a “call to purpose”,
words that yesterday seemed just words, today become a song, a
poem, a political message, a rallying cry or a simple but
heartfelt prayer. If you are working with individuals who question
whether or not they have a purpose, or if you are questioning your
own, I invite you to use the prompts in this issue’s “Putting It
Into Practice” in order to tune in and listen to what Rilke called
“the inner call”.
Observe any part of nature long enough and it will speak to
you. Today as I watch the birds I am reminded that we are part
nester, loving the comfort of woods as we sing in the trees. We
also work our way to the feeder for our daily fill of seed, and to
some extent, know our place in the pecking order. We take cover in
the branches from life’s winter wind. But there is also a part of
us that belongs to the open spaces, and must fly - not for the
sake of heights, but for the joy of having wings. May our highest
purposes call to us such a way that we never settle long under the
wooden roof, but continue stretching our wings in the piece of sky
that we know is ours.
May you soar, Denise
© Denise Bissonnette, February 2004
About Denise...
