Searching for Purpose

I haven’t felt like I’ve had a purpose for the last two years.

The thing is, I found purpose in external factors, not in internal ones. I found my purpose in my theatre career, which ended abruptly in 2020 with Covid-19. But, I still needed external validation, and I found it in supporting my best friend as a fundraiser and backbone when a crisis hit. I found a lot of purpose there.

Then she died, and I lost that purpose.

This leaves me in the canyon I’ve lived in for the last two years. Hopeless, alone, and useless. That’s what no one tells you about depression. It’s not just being sad; it’s a more profound feeling that becomes a conviction. It’s not just a fleeting thought; it becomes literal truth: the world would be better off without me. And why? Because there’s not a single thing that I bring to the table.

I find myself having to dig deep now. I’ve been divorced for two years and should be in a different place now. I’m nowhere near where I want to be. But all of this happened for a reason and a purpose. So, what is that purpose now?

When you have to start over from scratch, sometimes you find your cupboard bare. That’s where I’ve found myself recently. As the fog finally cleared and life began to wind up to speed slowly, I had to go shopping. Not literally, figuratively. I’m trying to fill my cupboards again.

For the last year, my “purpose” has been caring for my animals. But even that is external validation. Now, I’m turning inward to see what kind of validation I can give myself. This is not easy.

I wish I had some magic words. I wish I could tell you that finding purpose is something that you can catch on a fishing line. But it’s not. And you can’t. You don’t just wake up from depression and suddenly have all the answers. You wake up from depression and see the destruction its caused. You see ground zero for what it is. And yet, you can see the end result, too. It’s the journey from ground zero to a skyscraper that needs to be mapped out. It needs to be explored. It’s unknown terrain. ou have to call in architects; the land must be surveyed and leveled. There are endless planning phases to ensure the building infrastructure will pass inspection.

I think I’ve only just discovered the first ten percent of who I am meant to be. Tolkien spent ten years writing The Lord of the Rings and it wasn’t published until he was in his sixties. I have time to write, to explore, to find the purpose.

And so do you.

It’s hard not knowing the answers. It’s harder not to know yourself, to look in the mirror and see a stranger looking back at you. Someone you don’t recognize is looking back at you with eyes that beg for something more than what they have. And to know how capable you are of doing that, but that first step is so utterly daunting you’re not even sure how to make it.

It’s like that scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, where Indy is at the leap of faith. He looks down to see how far his fall is and pauses at the edge, teetering on indecision. It’s a lot like that. Hand over your heart, sweating and whispering to yourself, “It’s a leap of faith.”