Friday, February 19, 2021

Finding the core of life purpose.

This post from nine years ago reminds me of how much time I've spent trying to find "my life purpose."  Once again, as I contemplate a potential project, I'm trying to see how it fits with my idea of what should be my purpose for this incarnation.

When I wrote the poem below,  I thought I had come to clarity on this question. However, it continues to repeat like endless waves lapping at the shore. I have to stop and remind myself that as long as my choices bring me joy and lovingly connect me to the world, they are part of my purpose ... they are part of the sea of "perfect possibilities."

I no longer believe I should pack up and go serve the starving children in Africa. While that could be soul satisfying, there are other projects that fit my life and skills better.  

The less dramatic project under contemplation could serve people and perhaps there are ways to increase the possibilities for contribution. Maybe that's the real issue ... finding ways to do what we love and fits our skills and talents in a way that serves others.

Life Purpose
The child walks 
toward passion
as naturally 
as she reaches toward 
a bright toy.
Wherever she looks, 
a world of joy beckons.
No thought of “should”
 or “ought” enters her head.
She just points herself 
in the direction of 
the bright beloved
and puts one foot 
in front of the other,
moving forward, 
totally focused.
She doesn’t stop
to ask for it.
She doesn’t worry about
whether or not
it’s the right it.
She doesn’t stop to 
consider the possible responses.
She feels no fear;
she hears only
the siren call
of her one true joy.
Oh, that I felt
that clarity,
that ability
to feel passion
for every cloud 
and dust mote,
every shiny bauble
and every glittering face.
Rather than searching
high and low
for that one
right calling,
that one
all-fulfilling wish,
that one bright island,
we can recognize
that life is a sea 
of perfect possibilities,
infinite choices,
to serve the world 
with love and joy
thus expanding
our own spirits. 



  1. Ohmygosh, Joyce; this is so beautiful, and so perfect. I'm reading in Trust the Process this morning about the importance of regaining that childhood trust and opennness... love the synchronicity of all this.

  2. Diane ... The great synchronicity was walking into that Miksang photography workshop in Boulder and meeting you. It's always so fun to see how our paths intertwine.

  3. A wonderful poem, Joyce. I especially like the last stanza, its acknowledgment of being open to all that's possible. This would be lovely to read aloud. I can hear it already.

    Your image is a beautiful complement, too.

  4. beautifully said, love your photography, art and poetry. It all intertwined.

  5. Thanks Maureen ... coming from such an incredible poet as yourself, I take this as a high honor.

  6. I am just so enchanted with this poem I had to publish it on my blog today. Thank you so much for sharing this one.


    The above video and the below quote from Paulo Coelho's blog...say it nicely I think....
    love your poem...

    Searching for a meaning
    by PAULO COELHO on SEPTEMBER 2, 2011
    What is this force that drives us far from the comfort of the familiar and makes us take up challenges instead, even though we know that the glory of this world is only transitory?

    I believe this impulse is called the search for the meaning of life.

    Over many years of seeking a definitive answer to this question in books, art and science, and in both the dangerous and easy paths i have followed, i have found many answers.
    None of them were true.
    I am convinced now that a definitive answer will never be given to us in this life.
    But, at the moment when we stand once more before the Creator, we will understand each opportunity that was offered to us.

    And the Creator’s question will be: “Did you love enough?”
    May God guide me and inspire me for the years to come, so I can answer: “yes”.

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  9. My 90-year old father is sad that he no longer has purpose. He cared for Mom in her last years as dementia took her further and further from him--even as they held hands, as they always had. Muscle memory and loving gazes were profound gifts. I wish he could see a sea of perfect possibilities...