What Am I Doing?

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Lately, I’ve had this scary thought running over and over in my head. Aside from how am I going to pay all my bills and student loans and still get those earrings and that new shade of lipstick I love. The question is, “If we’re not living our life purpose then what are we doing?”

What am I doing?

What are you doing?

What are we doing?

I mean besides just getting by, besides just paying rent, besides just living in fear of crushing debt, anxiety, aches and pains and depression, what else are we doing?

Have you ever met anyone who was living their true life purpose?

Have you ever wondered to yourself in a brief moment of seeming wholeness and bliss and wondered, what if I just don’t go back to work? What if I just called out again? What if I ride passed my stop.

If you’ve ever wondered that (and I do all the time) we’re clearly not living our life purpose and the reason why the question is scary to me is because I feel like a large percentage of people feel this way. Sometimes I look around in lunch spots, on the train, standing in the subway or just in meetings at work and it feels like most everyone has sold themselves short, has normalized the slow and insidious grinding down of the spirit and settled for a paycheck that is not worth their time.

And we promote this among one another and to innocent children as if it was normal as if we weren’t sending completely mixed messaged to ourselves about what it really means to be alive.

What are we doing?

What have we done?

What have we traded in our dreams for?

We walk and pace the streets, the halls,  the living room  in a never ending dialogue with ourselves. We’re looking for permission. We’re conditioned. We’re trained like animals.

You ever watch someone do what you wish you could be doing but then get lost in watching and consuming, essentially worshiping that person while still

doing…

nothing?

Why is it so hard to locate our authenticity? Or rather, why are we so scared of our authenticity? It’s literally the reason why I have over a hundred blogs entries in my draft folder right now.

Sigh*

Am I in broken record land yet? Let me know.

In a conversation I had with my good girlfriend recently, someone who, to me, is living more of her life purpose than anyone I know, she said that 2016 has been savage so far.     We’ve seen a lot “dying but no doing.”

Truest thing I’ve heard all month. We’re obsessed with mourning the dead as well, while in the mean time our own lives here on this physical plain, hang in the balance.

Today I found out from a co-worker that someone we used to know who worked here who hated her boss notoriously left without having secured employment elsewhere. Now I know how long she suffered or rather tolerated her time here and I was so happy when I heard last year that she had finally gotten out. But I took that to mean she found work elsewhere. This an intelligent, detailed, hard working young woman. But no, I’m told she didn’t move on to something else right away. She had just had enough.

I know a guy who I worked with years ago when I was a bookseller who literally just walked off the job one day. Just said fuck it. Everyone thought he was crazy.

I thought it was kinda stupid but I totally understood. I secretly envied him for it.

I’m not the type to leave a job without a plan. But I also don’t seem to have a concrete plan at the moment. Just some promises I made to myself that I would like to keep.

I don’t want to die here. And when I say here, I don’t necessarily mean at this job. I mean I don’t want to die never having realized my life’s purpose. There’s a there there and many of us expire there.

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