moving forward
purpose and intentions heading into the new year
Purpose is strange and nebulous.
I used to think that purpose was a singular destination; an end goal. I used to think that there were two camps of people — those that had a purpose, and those that were searching. “Know your why,” they say, as if your why is a singular thing that can be known and contained within an articulated statement.
I don’t think this is true anymore. Well, at least I don’t think this is the full picture anymore.
I think you can outgrow a purpose. Earlier this year, my purpose for meditating was to attain a certain state of mind and being; to become “enlightened”. It was a good enough purpose at the time. It was enough to get me started at least. It quickly became clear though how ridiculous this purpose was. For one, turning meditation into something transactional means I’m constantly judging or evaluating if I’m on the right track, and judgment and evaluation are major hindrances to developing your conscious awareness. For another, the idea that I can judge a state of mind and being as “good” for me is ludicrous in and of itself. It’s abundantly clear to me how limited my mind is; I have no right to make any statements like that. All of a sudden, my consistent meditation practice evaporated as I lost the reasons I had for engaging with it in the first place. And I fell back into the sea of chaos until I found a better reason to meditate.
I think you can also lose sight of a purpose. Just because you wake up one day invigorated and full of life and ready to engage in an activity doesn’t mean it has to feel the same the next day even if you remember the words. The meaning of the words themselves can fluctuate dramatically based on your mind and state of being on any given day at any given moment. I felt this a lot with writing. At some point this year, I became extremely motivated to write more consistently, put my thoughts to paper, and see what I could learn through the process and by sharing it with others. Some days it felt extremely exciting, and other days I felt a complete and utter confusion as to why I was doing this at all. It’s the same feeling as waking up knowing you had a vivid dream but feeling all of the details slip through your fingers, unable to grasp any of it at all. You know it was there at some point, but all you can feel is the void, the emptiness, the confusion. I’m still on this roller coaster. To be honest, I have no idea why I’m writing and sharing this at all.
This year has been a strange, confusing, and difficult one because I’ve felt my purpose towards all of the things in my life undergo more turbulence than ever before. I’d like to think it’s because I’m growing, but only time will tell. I’m experiencing such a confusing swirl of emotions — excitement, faith, pain, fear, confusion, trust, and so much more. Sometimes I can manage them all, and sometimes I feel directionless, scatterbrained, and alone.
I’ve never been someone who’s a planner, someone who maintains strict discipline and routine and habit and stays within a set structure. I’m highly emotional and expressive; I wear my heart on my sleeve, and follow my impulses no matter where they lead, finding delight in pressing against every single boundary that tries to contain me.
Yes this is freeing, in some capacity, but only now have I fully opened my eyes to the destructiveness of this mentality; I’ve been a loose cannon, completely oblivious to the havoc I’ve inflicted upon my friendships, relationships, and organizations. It might be acceptable if I was acting in line with my highest character and self, but I don’t think I always have been. I’ve learned that I cannot axiomatically or completely trust my impulses and instincts; much of it is rooted in delusion stemming from insecurities and lies that I’ve convinced myself are true.
I spent the first half of this year as a wrecking ball, and much of the second half of the year suffering the tyranny of my own mind, jailed by an intellect that refused to trust any of my own impulses or thoughts, feeling a sudden vacuum of joy and pleasure as I struggled to bear the weight of my awareness and the confusion at not knowing the path forward.
What do you do when you can’t trust yourself? What do you do when you feel tossed between one extreme of putting your impulses and feelings on a pedestal and the other extreme of shoving them all to the side, squeezing out your zest for life in the process? How do you find the middle path?
The premise of reason and rationality is that there is a world “out there” that can be known and measured and that once we have known and measured enough — once we have reduced the uncertainty, the chaos of the world into something certain, ordered, and predictable — we’ll be able to make perfect decisions and anticipate the outcomes we’ll experience.
To an extent, that’s how I’ve operated. I have needed a reason to engage in the activities that I engage in. I need a reason to work hard at my job; a reason to write; a reason to have a golf membership; a reason to exist. And it’s not enough for this reason to be understood by me — I must be able to sell it and validate it to others. My actions must be explicable.
How much do these reasons really hold up? How much of the world do you know? How much of the world can you know? How can you have any confidence in your mental rationalizations and carefully laid out plans when the only constant in the world is change, chaos, and surprise?
The uncertainty principle states that there is a limit to the knowledge we can obtain about a particle; we can’t know both the position and the speed with perfect accuracy because the act of measurement changes the particle’s behavior. The Hawthorne effect describes something similar about humans — a subject’s behavior changes due to being observed. These hint at the idea that there is no duality between a subject and an observer; they’re entangled in a cosmic dance as part of an interconnected whole.
While this past year has left me with far more questions than answers, I do have some goals and intentions for the upcoming year.
I want to continue learning as much as I can. Currently, my interests are pulling me toward chaos theory and fractals, consciousness research, Carl Jung’s work on archetypes, and mythology. I’m curious about where this will take me and how my interests will evolve.
I want to continue building and creating. I have some ideas for AI tools that will improve my quality of life at work. I want to continue building my writing practice and experiment with different modes of expression. I want to learn how to host events that will either introduce people to new ideas and concepts or help people explore alternative modes of being and engaging.
Beyond these more tactical pursuits, I want to discover my inner trust, confidence, and self-belief and find more patience and grace for myself. I want to let go of my inner need to be understood and validated by others; the need to prove myself to others, to articulate my why. I want to continue learning about myself and building a relationship with my body.
More than anything, I want to completely and unconditionally surrender and let the currents of my life carve out the path for my unfolding, for the full expression of myself. That is a task far too grand for my limited and imperfect mind; it is a task better suited for the universe or the forces of nature.
What’s my plan? How will all of this come together? How will I do justice to all of this?
I haven’t the slightest idea.
I’m relinquishing the desire to have complete control over my life. I’m choosing to trust the information that’s coming to me based on my interests and intentions, based on the pull I’m feeling from certain experiences and activities, and I’m choosing to put faith into everything I’m doing to learn how to discern genuine intuition from delusion. I’m abandoning the idea that I can create an articulated vision of how everything all fits together; the answer will become clear to me in time. It’s enough to know that an answer exists. In a certain light, the answer is just me; everything I’m experiencing is an expression of everything that I am. I’m just blind to much of it right now.
If we truly are all droplets in an endless sea, then I’m done trying to live above it all and control my destination. I’m choosing to let myself completely go and fall into the magical waters below, letting the currents take me where they will, finding wonder in the mystery of it all.
All I can do is wish upon a star, broadcast my intentions and dreams to the universe, and then return my focus to where my feet are. Only God knows where I’ll go.