I have monthly appointments with a psychiatrist where I mainly discuss my experience with sleep medications that he prescribes for me. You see, I struggle with serial insomnia hence the regular appointments with the shrink. In the course of our meeting, we talk about lots of things including my experience with daily living. I admitted to him today that I struggle with some big questions on the daily including grappling with the whole “what is my purpose” question now that I have no other job to focus my daily energies toward, my daily purpose seems difficult to nail down. I mean, beyond my love of doing the daily New York Time’s crossword puzzle how do I focus my daily energy?
That’s where he asked me about the blog and my love of writing. I had to admit that I’ve been neglecting this precious-t0-me space because I struggle with having a whole lot of nothing to write about on the daily. Dr. Wisdom, I’m going to call him here, said to me, “I’d think you have a lot to write about like your day-to-day experience and struggle with finding purpose. You write about that and find other people are struggling with the same questions – you’re not as alone with these thoughts as you might feel. I know you claim to have nothing to write about but even nothing is something.”
Even nothing is something. Wow. Mind is officially blown.
So I open WordPress and start writing with my one-finger typing method to see where nothing takes me. Maybe I’m struggling with finding my purpose but maybe you are too and maybe that’s OK. Maybe the search for purpose is a purpose in and of itself. Maybe the NYT crossword hobby isn’t as strange as it feels to me. Using my brain to solve that puzzle is my way of keeping my brain engaged and active. Writing this blog has an element of purpose even if there are only a few actual readers! My writing has helped me through some pretty low lows in the past. Ignoring this space now seems counter intuitive and yet…and yet, that is exactly what I’ve done.
I wake up each day and find a way to go on even when a reason for doing so doesn’t readily come to mind. My dear friend and caregiver Evie tells me part of my purpose is being here for her and her daughter who now live with me. She feels that giving her daughter a safe place to settle and thrive is a big purpose for anyone to have. Until she put it to me that way, I hadn’t even considered my role in other folks’ lives could be a part of my purpose but there you have it.
Putting these words I share out into the world…could that really be valuable enough to contribute to my overall purpose in this crazy thing we collectively call life? I wonder. Words are all I have to offer. A small slice of this thing I call my life now that work is over and my full-time job has become being a sick person who does crossword puzzles. Finding little things to focus on in between major life events like eating, shitting, taking care of my skin, changing clothes and the like has become what this life is about for me.
Sometimes the daily grind feels so large it threatens to swallow me whole. So many of those major life events I mention above now require another human to accomplish it makes me feel pathetic and needy. When the small things become huge it can leave a person feeling lost. This is my daily struggle. This is where I find myself. And there you have it.
Source: bethybrightanddark.com