How I Learned to Live a Purposeful Life, Regardless the Roadblocks
A turbulent existence goes silent.
The stringer of million-dollar questions creep in.
Why is life so damn hard?
What does it all mean…the loss, the hurt, the heartbreak?
Are there honestly worthy lessons buried beneath the suffering?
Will my struggle ease up?
When might relief arrive, if ever?
Is this just catch-up karma, a higher power punishing me for my mistakes?
Why do I keep fighting, I see no end in sight; why not surrender?
Perhaps I should submit, maybe it’s best to quit, maybe just let me drown.
‘What Doesn’t Kill Us’ does not always make us stronger.
Sometimes it just leaves us more broken.
Many of the seemingly “normal” celebrated teachings honestly don’t apply to me.
It’s like I’m on the outside, like that stuff was written for someone else.
Now then, if trying a little harder, would a better outcome present itself?
Will effort in any direction somehow make a difference?
Could lasting change come about, and stick around, really?
Aren’t I habituated, aren’t I stuck being the dysfunctional human I am?
Well, possibly I could muster the energy to try but I am tired, and doubtful.
Summarizing: If I die tomorrow, will I go without regret?
Will my kids know enough of who I was so to help carry them?
Just before the pandemic hit in early 2020, I was struggling to find my way. The primary consideration was to get back to work in corporate America. Yet in a weird twist of fate, I turned the opposite way, instead deciding to write a book. Writing my first book, Lies Between Us, began with the scrutiny of life’s most meaningful questions, 14 self-inquisitions that seemed worth dissecting in detail.
Where does my pain truthfully come from, and where is such challenge trying to direct me? If my pain aims to teach me something, how will I realize its lesson?
Can I find meaning amid my suffering? Can I grow emotionally, so to stand taller than my pain, thus courageously facing whatever damage is still to come my way?
What are the biggest lies I tell myself, the ones I share with others, and those I allow to invade me from the outside world?
If emotionally injured, if hurt, can I honestly heal, and how? Can I possibly imagine protecting myself from similar future pains, or in truth are all such circumstances different, despite appearing somewhat similar in nature?
What about my lack of kindness towards self, my missing patience, my parttime tenderness void…can I change my practices, can I factually alter my conscious behavior and regulate some of the outcomes?
What did my drug addiction offer me, and what do my recent addictions provide me that are unavailable elsewhere?
Do I actually withhold regret, that one horrendous maneuver I performed so long ago but am unable to get over? Will I let such pathetic humanness define me for the rest of my life, or can I work through it?
What’s holding me back from my best life? Can I shed all the baggage I have carried for so long? Will I smash the walled barriers that I have always believed stood in front of me? Will I learn to settle within the reality of self and find a peace I have never known?
What are the keys to my success going forward? What priorities will I place before all else, and what will I avoid?
Can I continue to develop a process of challenging introspection, not adopting a condition of complacency or indifference?
How will I serve my fellow human? Can I establish a flow of giving without becoming discouraged, and stopping short of sacrificing too much of myself?
Can I become someone who has lived fully, holding back nothing in reserve, and making a true difference in the world?
Can I maintain my healthy-ego optimism without succumbing to my legacy self-defeating lies, even in the face of the worst possible tragedy ever?
Can I effectively honor what I have before its gone? Or can I not realize its place in my heart until after I lose it?
