One day I woke up from a sleep not much different than any other. But I felt different inside, and the feeling was unfamiliar to me yet I knew what it was all at the same time. Some may call my moment an epiphany, some may call it a moment of truth. I see it as the moment that I finally figured out who or what I was.
I've always been someone that's had a sense of who I was, so I thought. I've never been a follower, I've never succumbed to peer pressure and I've always been comfortable in my own skin. But I thought that since I knew these things about myself and I knew my likes and dislikes with a firm base for my moral standings and beliefs, that it meant I knew myself on all levels. And this was true except for one thing, I wasn't content when it came to knowing my purpose in life.
Sometimes I would think maybe we didn't really have a purpose, maybe we are here just to live out our lives to the best of our ability. I'm good at my occupation working in the community, I've had many people tell me that they felt I was serving my purpose and that it was a noble one as if that was supposed to fill the hole I felt. But I didn't believe any of it. That notion just didn't sit well with me. Maybe it's because I felt that if I had truly found my purpose then I would be completely happy and content, and I wasn't. And to be honest, I never have been.
I've been, and I am happy in other parts of my life, such as my personal life and things of that nature. But complete happiness or joy isn't dependant on how someone else treats you, what the weather is like, or how trying the day may be. It's more like something that's there with you all the time, something you feel no matter what, something you feel when you have purpose. I feel like all to often most people believe if you're good at one particular thing or another, it means you are serving or doing your purpose in life. And that's the way I think most people view me in relation to the community work I do.
Yes I enjoy doing work in the community and giving back, yes I am good at it, but that doesn't mean it's my purpose. I'm good at reading and staying organized, but that doesn't mean that's my purpose in life. You may be good at cleaning your home or preparing documents for a meeting, but I'm quite sure you wouldn't want the entirety of your life to culminate in those two chores either. So because of that I knew, I just knew it had to be something else.
I've always felt glimpses of what it was that made me extremely happy or brought me joy, glimpses of my purpose but it always escaped me. I think it escaped me because I never truly paid attention to it at those moments, I took those moments for granted, overlooked them. I believe I never really understood what it was because in the midst of serving my purpose I was so lost in the joy of taking part in it, that I didn't pay attention to myself and how it really made me feel. But just like that, one day it all made sense. I woke up and I knew, and when I knew, it made me happy and sad all at the same time. Happy because I finally discovered myself and sad because I had wasted all this time without knowing what it was. I also knew once I had indentified what my calling and passion was, that I wouldn't be taken seriously and others would try to deter me from following that passion.
I woke up and knew that my purpose was that of a creator. I'm happiest and serving my purpose when I am creating and building. I'm serving my purpose when I'm taking my ideas and working on them as a carpenter would, letting my imagination and creativity see no bounds in a world where all many people see or experience are boxes, limitations, rules, and restrictions. Molding my ideas, no matter how unrealistic to others, but beautiful to me, is what brings light to my life. I understand that people would try to restrict me to the very things that limit their own minds. And because of this, I refuse to let anyone else determine my ceiling. Creating, daydreaming, fabricating new ideas for art, fashion, and for the pure joy of it are what makes happy, what fills my soul, what makes me complete.
My imagination is my greatest gift, my greatest asset, and I've come to realize that even if only for me to see and not for the rest of the world, my imagination is worth me expressing. My imagination is worth me taking a gamble on myself to pursue some sort of career or even life outside of work where it can be used to make my world what I want for myself through my vision, my perceptions and no one else's. If we indeed were made or designed in the image of some great spiritual creator, then I am simply following in line of greatness. To realize this about myself has brought so much clarity and it's as if I was in a dark hole for years and now I've crawled out and seen the world in high definition, possibly for the first time.
My heart is filling up, my brain is more active than ever, ideas seem to give way to more and more ideas, and the feeling of joy and a smile are becoming more regular occurances. In a world where the light seems to be dimming, the light in my world feels like it's growing just a bit brighter. And maybe, just maybe, the things I create, whether it be for others to observe, take part in, or wear, can shine a little extra light in the world of some others.