Finding Purpose

 


Tomorrow is Mardi Gras–literally Fat Tuesday–the last day before the Lenten season of self-denial, self-reflection, self-abnegation. We will indulge with a raucous carnival–literally farewell to meat–then get up the next day to be reminded of our mortality with a solemn ash cross swipe across our foreheads, preparing us for 40 days of sacrifice. Haha. JK. We’re just going to keep the carnival going, right?

I have long since abandoned the rites and rituals of my Catholic childhood (and early adulthood, for that matter), along with my belief in a True Faith, an omnipotent score-keeper, or any sort of heavenly afterlife to which I might be admitted if I check all the right boxes. But that doesn’t mean I’ve given up on wonder or a commitment to good. I am regularly awed by small, simple moments that remind me that life–in general and particular–is absolutely amazing. Looking up from my dinner preparation to see Chip and Caruso, curled together in front of the fireplace; passing within 10 feet of a young doe on a quiet, drizzly dog walk in the nearby woods; waking up to new tulip buds in the planter Jennifer surprised me with: these are miracles I can believe in. This little sample of the birdsong my friends Catherine and Jim are hearing in their temporary Hawaiian home made my heart happy:

Every single breath is a gift. I’m just so accustomed to the largesse that I sometimes forget my good fortune. And that is what I miss about my Catholic childhood. Liturgical days like Ash Wednesday formalized the human experience, nudged me to think about the wonder of my brief, improbable life, to unplug from the constant carnival and consider how I might use my little life to make a positive difference in the big story of The World.

I’m no Paul Farmer, obviously, but I am determined to find a way to do more. I won’t be giving up Retired Life pleasures, like impromptu trips to the coast, with Neal’s Jasper joining my boys for a winter dip in the Pacific, but I will be looking for ways to give back some of the wealth and luck and joy I have so much of. I’d like whatever time and energy I have left, whether it’s a day or a few decades, to feel purposeful and productive.



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Kia Ora!

Image
  When the impossible happened in 2016, I began to seriously consider a move away from this country where I no longer felt at home, and over the course of four hellacious years, I obsessively researched possible landing places–places where people mattered more than profits, where basic needs (food, shelter, health care) were recognized as rights, not privileges, where I could afford to live comfortably (if not lavishly), where I could make a new home for whatever remained of my life. Again and again, Portugal presented itself as that place. Portugal was warm and people-centered, welcoming, affordable, and safe. Steeped in a rich history, building toward a better future for all, it seemed like a real possibility. I had to find time and means to go there, to experience the reality. My friend, Catherine, who had spent some time in Portugal (and loved it), offered to be my travel companion, and we began looking for a good time to go. But life: I went back to work, first just to help ou...
Read more

My Wonderful Family

Image
  OK. In case you didn’t know already, I’ll tell you. My sons are so, so fucking great. They are smart and kind, funny, talented, tender, thoughtful. I love spending time with any of them, and having them all together–which, since they have grown and moved away, is a Christmas time-only experience–is amazing. Not always easy, mind you; not uneventful. But amazing. Discussions about football or politics or, well, anything, really, can (and have) become loud, angry philosophical debates as my ultra-verbal sons weigh in passionately (and stubbornly?) for their position; evenings can (and have) turned sour as one or the other of us unwittingly tapped into tender emotional territory–or perceived that his emotional territory had been invaded. But the amazing always kicks in afterward. Laughter returns. Love prevails. So, when the prospect of a full-family June gathering was floated, I was thrilled. Neal and Brendan took vacation days, I made reservations at the Burbank airport Marriott, ...
Read more