I have spent an entire lifetime searching for my purpose. It has been quite elusive. The only sense I have of it is that I am here to help. The problem is that I never knew exactly how.
I have always been jealous of people who knew exactly what their life purpose was and how to fulfill it. My ex-husband was one of these. He told me that he knew from the age of six. Six! And he achieved it exactly. The drive toward his purpose was intense and without doubt. Oh how I wish I had that!
I have met others who knew without a doubt what they were here to do and the steps to take to get there. Each time they seemed to have always known. Me, never. I just seem to drift here and there.
My earliest memories in childhood are of talking to myself and or listening to an inner voice. I was mostly happy and carefree. I had vivid dreams and visions I didn’t understand but I was not really worried about them.
But, when I was seven that all changed. I had recurring nightmares and emotional upsets. I realize now that I was overwhelmed by the emotions of others. I could not block them and took them on as my own. It was at this point that I began to wish for my own death. I often said over and over, “I wish I were dead” and I spent much of my time angry that I was alive.
By the time I entered my teens I had isolated myself pretty much from everyone, though I could not do that with my family. This I did to protect myself; to maintain some sort of balance. I was also searching for my purpose. I could not find it and there was always this gaping hole inside of me, this unfulfilled part that welled up from within. I felt something was missing but I didn’t know what. On top of that I had no clue why I was here other than “to help”.
I continue to be haunted by the feeling that I am suppose to be doing something but I don’t know what. I have become use to it, focusing on one area or another in my life to stay busy. When I am busy the feeling is not so noticeable. But it is always there.
I am again finding myself noticing the feeling. I have this impatience now that was not there before. I continue to feel as if I am waiting to get this urge to act. Yet it never comes. I feel like I have been waiting forever for this knowing, this purpose, to come to me.
I am not sure it will ever come.
In recent days I have been very close to my HS. I feel impatient. I want to “get on with it”. I am reassured and reminded to focus on my heart, which I do, but it only seems to increase the feeling that there is something, just out of my reach, waiting for me. It has rekindled the desire to find my purpose, to live my purpose. But there is a definite hold back occurring. Not yet. Not yet.
It makes me want to kick and scream and yell. It also makes me want to sigh and give up. I am told “Apathy won’t help”. I understand this and so I resign myself to my daily routine, trusting my HS. I am encouraged to write, to keep writing, so I do. It does help to get all of this out. Maybe someone is listening, maybe not. Maybe someone can relate. This path is a lonely one and a frustrating one, that is for sure.
I just wanna make you laugh I just wanna see that smile Babe, we’re only here, oh, for a little while I just wanna hold you till we fall asleep I want love, I want us, I want you, I want me, I want peace
I woke this morning with the chorus from this song in my head and a feeling similar to how I was feeling not long ago – I didn’t want to get out of bed. A specific line of the chorus, “we’re only here, oh, for a little while”, kept repeating in my head. I love the song and it has been used to relay a message to me before, but this morning I just didn’t want to hear it.
Where Did the Memories Go?
As the song played in my head, memories of my youth began to trickle in. Specifically, a memory from when I was 12 years old. My father came back into my life after years of disconnection. He just popped back in, out of blue, and acted as if nothing had changed. Of course, me being 12 and all, everything had changed.
He brought with him a girlfriend. A very garish woman with big hair and penciled in eyebrows that made her look like a clown. Her makeup was dark and befitting of a twenty-something year old. Yet her clothing was more in line with her age – around 50 or 60. I don’t remember the woman’s name now, but I know I instantly did not like her. This is also not surprising considering the circumstances.
We went to a fancy restaurant – Red Lobster (back then it was considered high end – really!). We were there to celebrate my younger sister’s birthday. She would be turning 10. After eating, the garish woman and my father presented my sister with her gift and I was extremely jealous when she opened it. She got Clinique make-up! I remember looking at the little, sea green compact and feeling my heart sink. I thought to myself, “She is too young for that!” and wanting it desperately for myself. But I kept my mouth closed and smiled, pretending to be happy for her.
The memory stopped there but the feeling of it did not. I was so full of hate back then. It was me against the world. It was vile. I am not sure how I made it through my teens because that feeling pretty much stayed with me until I was in my mid-twenties. It grew and changed as I suppressed it and tried hard to not become the effect of it. Sometimes I managed to keep it at bay but most of the time it hung over me like a dark rain cloud.
Much of my feelings stemmed from anger but I also believe I brought some of them into this life with me. Especially the feeling that I should be loved more than my siblings. I secretly always wanted to be an only child. I have since remembered my last life. It was brief but I do know one thing – I was the only child. Hmmm. Ha! I was also not treated well and my life ended in a horrible way – murdered by a father figure; drowned in a shallow fountain in an unfamiliar place. Torn from my family, life taken from me abruptly and betrayed by someone I thought loved me, I found myself trapped between the Other Side and Earth – bound to a life that was no longer mine.
All these memories were instantly with me as I awoke this morning. Why? Perhaps it was because yesterday, looking into my daughter’s face as we spent time reading together before bed, I thought about how I use to cherish similar memories of my own childhood, yet, I could not remember them. Where did they go? And I thought to myself that this must be why I am so bitter about having to live life. I have lost memories I once cherished.
One Life, Many Me’s
I read yesterday in one of the many blogs I now follow on WordPress that as we change, we leave a part of ourselves behind. We shift into a new Self. This is part of living. It is part of change. And change is the one constant – it is expected, though many of us fear it and reject it.
I have had many me’s in this life. The first, my childhood – when joy and laughter were still very much a part of my life. This me only lasted for about six years. Too short, if you ask me.The second me began with my parent’s divorce and stayed until my mid-twenties. This was probably the most challenging part of my life. I went through middle and high school, met my first husband, went to college and then left my first husband. I lived in parts of the U.S. I never thought I would and traveled across the world to Australia and the U.K. Yet I was not complete. I felt lacking. All the time.
The third me emerged with my spiritual awakening at around the age of 26. I recall recognizing the other me’s during this time. They felt foreign to me. When I looked at those me’s a didn’t recognize them as a part of me. I was so different. There is no way they could be me. Even now, when I recall memories of those times, they seem surreal and dreamlike, as if they were just one of my many astral travels.
And now I feel like I am entering into another stage, one that will create yet another me. Hopefully the final me. I have yet to see where one me ended and another began, but this could be because I am in the midst of it. I worry that in order to transform into the new me there needs to be a drastic ending somewhere. For example, the beginning of the current me came after several drastic ends – the biggest being divorce. The ending of the childhood me came with divorce as well. And it could be that there will be divorce this time as well, but not necessarily the divorce of man and woman but a divorce of old habits, behaviors and beliefs.
Peace
The final feeling that came with hearing the song by O.A.R. this morning was an irritation at not getting to astral along with a rejection of astral travel – almost as if it serves only to slow me down right now rather than help me progress at the rate I should be. Typical of that internal conflict that has proved so difficult to overcome in this life – the ego versus the Self. Always, when I thought about the purpose astral travel serves in my life, I heard the line “we’re only here for a little while”, as if to say “Focus on living your life now, not on other planes of existence as it is this existence which is most important at this time”. And the message is clear – we are only here for a little while, just a blink compared to the eternity of that which we are. And the peace we find in ourselves can be found anywhere, even here on Earth, if we accept our chosen path, do not allow the ego to confuse us and misguide us, and travel it wholeheartedly. Easier said than done.
Living Life in Between 