The one TJEd concept that has most intrigued me is that of mission. I have a
unique mission that I am on earth to fulfill, and that is the purpose of my
life. Everything else I’ve studied falls into place under that single
overarching idea. My life has meaning, and I have a work to perform. That’s
both truly comforting and terribly disturbing, carrying a message of
inspiration and huge responsibility. I have a work to do that is mine alone,
and if it dies with me, it goes undone. Of course, the same is true of you.
Have you personally begun to uncover the meaning of your life? But more
important, are you taking the steps necessary to accomplish that mission? I
tend to think that most of us have a long way to go on this path called
mission. I certainly do! But just knowing that I have a mission and that it’s
my job to discover it and accomplish it gives a great deal of focus and power
to the things I choose to do.
I recently attended a talk given by Dr. Shannon Brooks to our group here in
Arizona, where he spent some time discussing the nature of mission. In it he
paraphrased Aristotle’s definition of virtue: something is virtuous when it
does the thing for which it was created (e.g. a pair of scissors is virtuous
when they cut a clean straight line). If we apply that definition to ourselves,
we are presented with the question, “Am I accomplishing the purpose for which I
was created?” And that question leads straight to another question. “What was I
created to do?” That is the quest, to find the answer to what is both the most
personal and yet most universal of questions. Answer that question and you find
your mission. Find your mission, and everything else falls into place.
So how do you find your mission? I’m not sure I can really answer that
question, at least not for anyone other than myself. For me, the answer came
through writing. When I first climbed out of the box (you know, the one
everyone always tells you to think outside of), I discovered so many possible
courses of action that I was completely overwhelmed. Where before I saw only a
few options, now there were too many to choose from. It’s like coming to the
world’s biggest buffet, but you only get one plate. There are so many
incredible-looking options, but you can only try so much. I was stuck, not
wanting to continue the way I had been going, but afraid to pick the wrong
thing. (That conveyor belt training sure does a good job of instilling a fear
of failure, doesn’t it?) Over the course of four or five years, I probably came
up with fifteen or twenty different ideas of what I should be doing with my
life. However, I only acted on about two of them, and even then I quit pretty
quickly.
I finally got some advice from my mentor. She suggested that I go someplace
where I could be alone for a few days, just to mull things over. She also gave
me a technique I have used a number of times since then: write at least three
pages, and by the end you’ll have your answer. Even if you have to start by
writing something like “I’m sitting here on this uncomfortable camp chair
writing about nothing, and I don’t even know why,” by the time you get to the
end of the third page, you’ll have your answer. Oddly, it’s worked for me every
time.
I wanted to find my mission, so I went camping. I don’t actually like camping,
but I think more clearly out in nature, so sleeping outdoors is the price I
pay. The first night I just sat and thought. About everything. About nothing in
particular. I watched the stars come out, and the moon set. I listened to the
birds and the bugs and the wind. It takes some time for the constant everyday
worries and preoccupations to shut up and go away, and I gave myself that time.
The next day I wrote. I sat in my camp chair, scribbled the title “What is my
life’s mission?” at the top of the page, and just started writing. Slowly and
haltingly (and stupidly) at first, but I just kept writing. About the time I
got to the half-page mark, I started asking questions. On the top of page two,
I started really looking for answers. I spent a page looking back over my life,
examining who and what and how and why I used to be. And somewhere near the top
of page three, things started to come together.
I have heard Dr. DeMille speak about mission on a number of occasions, in which
he indicated that there are a few universal and truly important missions. The
ones I remember are: feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the sick, comfort
the lonely, educate the ignorant, liberate the captive, create beauty, and
preach the gospel. As I neared the end of my writing, two missions stuck out
from that list. My primary mission is to liberate the captive, with a secondary
mission to educate the ignorant. At least in general terms, I had found my
mission. I knew I still had a number of things to work out, not least among
them the specifics of what ignorance and which captives, but I finally had a
really compelling place from which to start.
Since that experience, I’ve had a yardstick by which I could measure the myriad
of choices before me. “Will this help me liberate the captive? How can I use
this to help educate the ignorant?” That has helped tremendously in deciding
what paths to take. I still fall short, especially by my perfectionistic
standards and aggressive time lines, but it also gives me a reason to keep
getting back on my feet and moving again, because I have something to
contribute, and I need to be giving it.
As more time has passed since I first glimpsed my own mission, I’ve managed to
do a lot of refining, frequently using the same writing method. It usually only
takes me a couple of pages any more, although sometimes I ask several questions
in succession and wind up going on for five or six pages. It doesn’t matter. It
gives me time to get out whatever is binding up my mental processes, and work
through what Intuition is trying to tell me. It often feels slow and even
painful, but as I push through the roadblocks and put my thoughts to paper, my
mind begins to unfold, and I can more clearly identify what I need to be
doing.
If you’re still wrestling with the concept of mission, or you just can’t figure
out exactly what it is you’re supposed to be doing with your life, just realize
that you’re not alone. In fact, you’re in good company. I don’t personally know
anyone who has completely nailed down what their purpose in life is. It seems
to be more of a journey than a destination. The important part is to keep
moving along the path, no matter how slowly.
I recently came across an idea that I’m trying to add as a habit in my life.
Just do one proactive thing daily. Once you have some idea what it is that
you’re supposed to be about, take one more step along the path, but do it
today. I have a terrible habit of procrastination based on perfectionism. I
don’t want to move down the path until I know I can get to the next great vista
on my way. I want to be able make it to the next four-star hotel in a great
burst of speed, without the need to camp in the wilderness. So I sit and study
and plan and worry, and I let too much time pass without progress. But if I
just take a few small steps each day, or even only one, I’ll reach my
destination much more quickly than if I stand still waiting for all of the
traffic lights to turn green. Because down that path is my Mission, and it’s
waiting for me, and although there is no hurry, I’m much happier when I’m
making progress.
After all, if I know for what purpose I was put on this earth, my efforts are
only worthwhile if they serve those same ends.
Comments
Thank you for such an
Thank you for such an insightful essay. I am at a loss to express how much it comforts me as I begin my own journey "out of the box" and off the conveyor belt. I like the "write at least three pages" technique and am incorporating it in my life immediately!
Yes, thank you.
This is helpful to me, too. In line with being proactive, someone told me several years ago to "do something each day that cannot be undone". I'm caring for seven children and one husband, and a majority of what I do needs done again the next day (sometimes within a couple minutes!). It has helped me to feel better about my efforts to know that this or that One Thing cannot be wiped out.