NdukuOutLoud

Crazy that you should ask. I, too have been wondering. Wondering if I even have one? And if I need one. Must I even have one?

Most people make it sound so easy. Like they just get born and know their mission. Or like some superpower whispered in their ear and guided them straight into their path. I admire those kinds of people. I wish there was a burning bush for me, too.

Or maybe not. Because then I’d know and I’d stick to it like ants to honey. And where’s the fun in that?

There is a part of me that would like to know if I am actually doing what I was born t do. If I am at all aligned with the greater purpose of this life.

Then there’s the skeptic side that trashes the whole idea of missions. That wonders how people are so sure that whatever they obsess over is their mission. Like-who told you it was your mission to take us to Mars? Are you sure that’s what they said?

A side that’s drawn to Sartre-his insistence that there is no definite purpose, that it’s my job to make one. And that sounds wonderful until I start wondering if I’m actually building it the right way. Or the right thing. And how many times I can build and rebuild? And is this constant building just a clever way to avoid responsibility?

And then there’s that more dominant part that’s just down for living well as the mission. To bring soul into everything I do. To do everything with passion-or not at all. Most of the time, at least.

And maybe that’s why I tend to feel stuck every once in a while. Because there’s no “definiteness of purpose”.

So maybe my mission is provisional. Not a single, grand declaration but a way of living: to laugh at the absurdity, to bring soul into everything I do, and to keep questioning- even the idea of having a mission in the first place.