F#ck purpose

I've given up trying to find the 'thing' I'm meant to do or be.

I don’t know how I’m going to write this. I sat down to type this afternoon and was interrupted by a call telling me someone very special to me had a stroke. They’re in their final hours on earth as I type. I’m distracted and deeply sad.

But I’ve learnt that when I don’t know what to do with myself, structure and showing up regardless of how I feel helps.

This week, I went to see Elizabeth Gilbert, who is, yes, the author of Eat, Pray, Love, and nine other books, but she’s so much more than her books. She’s an incredible writer AND a spiritual teacher, a channeler of God, Love, Universal Spirit or whatever you call it, and the custodian of the community she created on Substack called Letters from Love.

Letters from Love is a spiritual practice of two-way prayer. You get up in the morning, put pen to paper and write,

Love, what would have me know today?

Then you free write and see what love has to say to you. It sounds like an odd process, but it’s a gorgeous way of tapping into the loving voice inside you, of quelling the madness and worry in our minds. It (Love) generally tells me all the soothing and reassuring things I need to hear to have a better day. (Why not give it a go).

Elizabeth Gilbert on Tour

Back to Wednesday night at Melbourne’s Town Hall. I went with my bestie, Emily, and met Kate (another soul sister who opted for the front-row VIP experience) to soak in 90 minutes of a woman we consider an idol and icon.

We all want to write our own Eat, Pray, Love and cultivate the kind of connection Liz has with her higher conscience.

I was dog-tired after work. We’d arrived early to bag good seats. The VIPs were seated, but for everyone else, it was a free-for-all. Emily chatted with her elder neighbour, a glamorous woman around 80, who shared that she had a much younger lover. She asked if I wanted to be involved in the conversation. I bowed out, “I’m okay, thanks. I’m taking a nap with my eyes open.”

Then Liz came on. Most of the audience held their phones up to take snapshots and record. She joked about it, encouraged everyone to take their pics (while she mimicked catalogue poses), and asked everyone to switch their phones off. All obeyed. Getting an entire audience to detach from their devices for 90 minutes is quite a feat, but that’s what happened.

Then she talked. Rooted to the spot for the full ‘show’.

Here’s an abbreviated list of the notes I made.

• Presence is essential to creative living.

• Check if a decision is based on curiosity or fear. When you start making curious choices, life becomes a work of art.

• Ask yourself: what would be the most interesting path? Do that for the big decisions and the little daily ones.

• Beauty in the world wants to be looked at. It’s deliberate. Stop and soak it in.

• Asking ‘why’ only brings pain. No one. No one gets to know.

• Instead, ask ‘how do you want me to show up? Who do you want me to become and serve'?’

• Be relaxed. Let your nervous system be deeply at ease. We’ve spent too long fighting and surviving.

• The calmest person in the room holds the power. You see what others can’t. You see the whole game. You make effortless insights.

• Set boundaries that you do not allow people to cross. Literally, draw a circle around yourself and say, ‘Everything inside this circle is sacred.’

And the best of all…

• Stop talking about purpose.

Elizabeth Gilbert and me and my bestie

Don’t try to live a purpose-driven life

This was music to my ears. A relief.

How many hours I have spent, twisting my brain like a pretzel, asking God, asking the sky, what’s my purpose? TOO MANY!

Am I supposed to be a writer and share my experience of recovering from sexual abuse? Is THAT the thing?

Am I supposed to run a charity? That shutdown. Does that mean I failed? Was THAT the thing?

Am I supposed to teach? But loads of people do that. That’s not special enough. Is it? Is THAT the thing?

Am I supposed to be a copywriter? A coach? A zoologist? A liontamer? A circus clown? Are any of those THE thing?

Welcome to my self-indulgent brain that wants me to be extraordinary and ensure I find and live up to my purpose. Otherwise, I’ll be a big fat disappointment and die a failure.

I did a self-development course a few years back, a series of full weekend turn-yourself inside-out and upside-down courses, and at the end, they shared this quote:

“This is the true joy in life, being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one. Being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it what I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.” - George Bernard Shaw.

It resonated hard. I wanted to be so useful that it would wipe me out. I wanted to live my purpose so hard that I burnt brightly and burnt out while changing the world. Then I’d know I was enough.

I have changed. I burnt out, and it hurt. When I slowed down, I found hurt underneath. That’s when my real healing journey began.

And now, life is much slower.

However, the ‘purpose’ itch hadn’t gone. It irritated me whenever I logged onto social media or when I relaxed on a Saturday instead of being productive in business or study.

Then came Liz’s advice…

“Stop talking Purpose. It gives us purpose anxiety.”

(I’m paraphrasing now). I refute that we have to change the world. I think the planet wants us to stop changing it!

Presence is the opposite of purpose. When we’re so focused on ‘becoming’ and our future, we’re not living in the gift of now.

She asked us to imagine almost 8 billion people wandering around, trying to find their unique purpose. That’s mental—silly.

Then, she quoted Kafka.

“If you want to suffer, get a future.”

She gave her audience permission to stop. Stop chasing the big idea. The impossible-to-know concept of what’s my purpose?”

I heard that instead, we can be humble and present.

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As I lose someone I love in the moments that I type; I feel it.

I am in this moment with the memories. I can look back over the text messages and photos and treasure the advice and unconditional love she gave me.

She’d definitely tell me to let myself off the hook and that my purpose is to be me, exactly as I am. I am enough.

That’s it. I’m out of words.

I’ll put the kettle on and let out a few more tears.

Over and out.

Much love.

Always. 💋