I’ve often felt like I’m not living up to my potential. I think I’m supposed to die knowing that the world was given so much of my heart that there is nothing left – the sides scraped clean. I think my existence in this world, my purpose, is to find the cracks all around and fill them with love, to express love without expecting it in return. I think I stumble over that a lot – because there is still some part of me that wants so deeply to be accepted. There is a little person inside me waiting to be valued and loved – looking for approval. I think what I’m in the midst of learning is that this life is supposed to be more about giving love than taking it, and in the moments where I’ve searched so frantically for it, I betray my purpose.
I’ve lived for a long time in a world of limits – told I was too this or that, as if we’re all only allowed to feel or love or be so much of one thing. To much of something makes other people uncomfortable. But who gets to have any say in our individual abilities to exist in one way or another unless we allow it? I’m learning more and more that the limitations I feel have been self-imposed, because I’ve allowed other people to define how I’m supposed to live, and slowly I’m working to shed those prescriptions to make a system of beliefs and values that are very much my own.
I think we spend so much time living on this physical plane that we forget how to imagine a bigger life for ourselves. We’re spiritual beings in a very tangible world and, yet, we have the capability – when we recognize it – to imagine the infinite. I want to remember that part of myself. I guess that’s what I mean when I talk about having lived such a small existence. I’ve lived in this physical world for so long that I’ve forgotten my spiritual self. I’ve not managed to care for the greater part of me that knows and remembers the immense beauty that exists beyond what’s happening right in front of my face. I’ve not made it possible to feel the deeper connections I have to people all around me – those I know and see every day and those I only pass on the street and never see again. I forget that I’m here to love all of it, to experience the indescribable pain and beauty that exists in each of us here.
Kim made a good point when I talked about this with her, that being able to explore this space is a privilege. I’m secure in my physical and mental life enough that I can allow for this space to explore purpose and spiritual existence. I don’t have to worry about staying alive, eating, where I’ll sleep and whether I’ll be warm. There are countless people in this world who haven’t experienced the luxury of being able to have a spiritual and existential crisis because they’re trying to make it through a day, or an hour, or even the next minute. Part of this process has to be gratitude that I’m capable of it at all. Gratitude for my privilege, which starts with the recognition that it exists at all in this way. I guess, too, the recognition of that privilege makes it feel more important to take this opportunity to grow and use it in the world in a way that benefits people. It all seems to fit together, using privilege to advance the lives of people who don’t have the entitlements I do.