The weight of constancy is the progenitor of fear. The uncertainty of shifting sands, the current of change, this is where peace is. The fear of the stable drives one to indecision; it is only in the moment of distortion in which the truth clarifies.
The Fear of Purpose
Many of us spend much of our lives searching for a purpose to the lives that we lead. For some, the purpose is found in the small things; walks by our favorite pond, the cat that always meows outside the window as dinner is prepared, the smell of coffee steeping as we step outside of the shower. For some, purpose must be found in temporal usefulness; the work we do Monday through Friday, volunteering to clean up around our communities, donating time to a local soup kitchen. For others, purpose is found outside of our daily lives; worshipping God, attending our local church, taking solace in the beauty of His creation. The purpose that we all find can be quite different from the purpose that the person sitting next to us has found, or it can be almost the same exact thing.
Within all of the different meanings that we use to get out of bed in the morning, is the prerequisite – the search for it. I will not burden the reader with a description of this search, as there are so many writers who have provided so many beautiful and moving depictions of it and I do not want to sully their works with a mediocre depiction of my own. No, it is not the search that I wish to talk about, but the abandonment of what the search has given.
Many people reading this will remember as a child or a young adult, or even into their full adulthood, being plagued with a fear that they will never know what the meaning of life; never know what their purpose should be. For most of us (although, I would argue that the number has decreased in these modern times full of distraction and noise), we find that meaning. It may be a slow percolation that leads to a gradual realization, or there may be a person or event that rocks meaning and purpose into our lives, a meaning and purpose that may be rather different than what was once expected.
The search may continue for many years, and the findings that it turns up may change over time, leading to a morphing of meaning; the birth of a child, the loss of a spouse, the ending of a relationship. In all of these is the distinct possibility that one may not like the meaning that their search has turned up, and this dislike may undoubtedly turn into a fear.
The young man who always seems like he goes wherever the wind blows finds that his meaningful moments are in the routinization of his daily life, in the things that repeat over and over. A young woman, intent on shedding the manacles of an oppressive society finds that her meaningful moments are when she provides love and care to those who cannot provide it to themselves. I speak of these because they are close to my heart, but the scenarios are manifold, far beyond my limited personal experience to delve into.
Many are faced with the finding that purpose is to be found in their lives in a manner different from what they had hoped, pointing them towards a different life than they had imagined living. For some, however, this difference between truth and hope resolves itself in fear and avoidance; seeking meaning and purpose in areas that they know are wrong. Fear of a purpose leading them to a life of challenge and outside of a life of comfort lends itself to a life of avoidance, a life of superficiality and emptiness.
Face the fear and welcome the challenges that your search has delivered unto you. Pick up your cross, embrace the purpose that the Lord has set out for you.
Meaning
When I was a child,
the senselessness made sense.
It was there,
but time would wipe it away.
As the days and years moved by,
I knew that I would know.
But senselessness is eternal,
stretching from womb to grave.
Acts of Meaning,
gripped tightly against the tide.
Not the meaning I had hoped for,
but I must cherish what I have.
Walking Contradiction
Standing up, day after day. thinking one thing and doing another. Questioning why one side showed itself to others, the other subsisting on secrecy. Unsure why one was accepted, one seen with confusion and scorn. Shaking hands, smiling, following society in an odd dance. Not truly disliking it nor feeling particularly genuine, success and failure blending together, possessing qualities worthy of praise and disdain both. In this odd riddle of life, constantly engaged in internal battle, ideals and actions never in alignment, a Question, floating about, understanding lacking on why the two facets of life sat separate and in poor harmony. Did the lack of connection exist as a societal consequence, or stem from a weakness, the kind that defines a person? The misplaced sense of duty, causing abandoned morals, replaced with practicality. An ever widening gap, conjuring up the Walking Contradiction, the ever bewildered Individual.
Scenes, running over and over in our heads, making perfect and no sense at the same time. Images, in full HD and color, spinning behind our eyes, distracting from the person in front. Words and phrases, echoing in our ears, said by people yesterday and tomorrow and a year ago, constantly following us from place to place. Dreams, stepping out of slumber, chasing us through waking hours. Ambitions, the children of dreams, driving us, forcing our hands to run over the keys, our feet over the ground, our lives over the coals. Difficulties, from past and present, dog us daily in everything we do. These turn life into a challenge, and without them life turns into nothing, into something meaningless. Should the challenge be accepted? Should life be conquered? Or should we accept the malaise, the meaningless of ease?
Transplanted
Transplanted, one edge of the country to another Looking for meaning, through many different avenues. Is the truth I look for to be found in work? Is it to be found living in community? Is it to be found in solitude? The meaning I seek, Sometimes elusive, sometimes close, Never completely out of reach, never totally understood. Meaning to be found in new people, in new areas of the country, in new struggles and new triumphs. Or is it in all the places I left?