What I Want to Do with My Life

At 73 many would exclaim my life is over or nearly so. They would be wrong, of course. Life is; it continues. With me or you, or not. Time happens – in the moment and in the past and beckons for future, too.

So life goes on. Has for millennia. Will continue for millennia likely, but we never know that for certain. And neither do we know if life will continue for us – for me and you. We take it on faith it will. And if that is so, if you agree that faith tells us life will continue, there is, then, only one question remaining…

What will you do with your life? Indeed, what will I do with my life?

Whatever is left of it to be lived, what will I do with it?

Options abound. Like eating food I really, really like. Like napping when the mood prevails to do so. Like watching mindless TV to dull the mind from other worries for a short while. Like reading a book or gazing out the window. Maybe, scrape together enough money to buy a meal out or go to a festive place for fun and games with other people, strangers mostly.

Or maybe spend more time with family. Nurture them a bit more. Help them see the breadth and depth of life so they too will value it as do I.

Somehow this pulls me in a direction. I don’t want to sit in the chair. I don’t want to watch another meaningless TV program. I’d rather ponder meaningful thoughts and see where they take me. I would much rather work with people who seek change and betterment in their village or community. I really want to bed engaged in the business of helping others. I don’t know why this is. But it is. I yield to it. I accept it.

And I wonder why others don’t. Oh, I’m not alone in these endeavors. Plenty of company awaits these efforts and enterprises. But I wonder why vast armies are not so engaged most of the time. I get the need to earn a living. The question is what living?

Life is not all about fun and games. It is not about drugs or booze, either. It is not about tinsel and glittery things, or bubbly fluids. No, life is about much more.

Like the smile on a young child’s face when she realizes that some else cares about her and her well being. Or when an elder eagerly grasps your hand or arm to cross the street or navigate a set of stairs with safety. Or when kids eagerly enter the school building each day to discover new wonders that still fuel excitement and dreams of the future.

Or like a group of kids – teenagers struggling with deep problems – realize your help and time is a sign of caring. They talk; you listen. They marvel that you do – listen. They get little of that at home or in school. They wonder why adults are so dense at times! Yes, like that.

When we sing a song what are we feeding? Is it a sense of belonging or aloneness? Is it an emotion of soul searching and discovery? Is it a celebration of an accomplishment, or love, or deep attraction and engagement? Why do we sing the song? Why do we yearn for the music and the words and sense of wellness it brings to us?

Does a prayer do this for me? Does writing do this? Does wondering and stewing about an issue do the same.

What is it I will do with my life? What of yours?

Will we seek order and purpose? Or will we shirk such effort as too much work or too elusive? The seeking is the process. The order and purpose is the fruit of the effort. Do not avoid it. Do not run away from it; it is the gem you need and will want. It is the goal engendered to become the guiding beam of the future.

Grab it for yourself. Help others grab their guiding beam, too. So they are propelled into the good future. Self sustaining is such effort. It keeps us going. And the goals are elusive too, just enough to keep us reaching and yearning and working toward them. We become self sustaining. They become self sustaining. Our society and nations and communities become self sustaining and empowered to do great things.

Lifting up others one person at a time. This is our mission and purpose. It is what I do for my life. It is not chosen, either. It is written and demanded of me.

And what about you? Is this your story, too? Will it be?

December 2, 2016