I sometimes see articles that talk about “finding your purpose”. I’ve always wondered: what does that actually mean? When I was younger, I had this idea that one’s purpose in life had to be this high and noble thing, like a quest or finding the cure for cancer or something like that. I can’t recall ever feeling like I had a purpose in life when I was coming up. I was just here and trying to find my way through, just like everyone else. But then, around 11 years ago when my partner and I fell in love, I had an epiphany. Can a purpose be as simple as loving someone? It may be mundane but that doesn’t make it any less worthy; it is a beautiful and joyful purpose. I think it counts. The simplicity of it also made me realize that having a purpose isn’t reserved for people who meet certain criteria. It’s for everyone! And it’s very personal. There are no rules around what one’s purpose, or purposes (because yes, you can have more than one) should be.
Fast forward several years. My partner and I are on vacation in Bali, staying with friends who were living there at the time. I had been feeling burnt out at work and was thoroughly enjoying our vacation. We are floating in the pool and looking up at the sky, talking and daydreaming. The cost of living in Bali is so low… what if we took a leave of absence from work and we rented a place in Bali and lived here for like six months? How awesome would that be? We could relax and recharge, I muse. You could work on your music, and I could write my book. Your book? says my partner, surprised. You’ve never said anything about writing a book before.
It’s true, I’d never said anything about writing a book before. To the best of my recollection, I had never even had the conscious thought that I wanted to write a book. It just came bubbling up from my subconscious in that relaxed moment. But once I said it out loud, I realized that it was true – I would like to write a book. Only I have no idea (yet) what I want to write about.
Spoiler: We did not, in fact, end up taking a leave of absence from our jobs and moving to Bali, although that would have been amazing. I did not write a book either, although I still might. We’ll see.
Fast forward a few more years to early 2020. We are living in the San Francisco Bay Area and the COVID-19 pandemic has just started. We are a couple of weeks into lockdown and there’s no end in sight. I am able to work from home but my partner can’t and is on furlough. There are long lines at the grocery store and shortages of all kinds of products, including, weirdly, toilet paper, as well as N95 masks. Some places are selling cloth masks, but I decide to make my own. We’ve got some old t-shirts, scissors, and a couple of little travel sewing kits with needle and thread. My partner decides to help, so we spend one Saturday afternoon making masks with our bare hands. Like, literally – we don’t have any thimbles in the house. Our hands were so sore the next day!
One month later, I bought my first sewing machine and taught myself how to sew and began making clothes for myself. During the pandemic, sewing became an important creative outlet for me and a way to practice self-care during a very difficult time in our lives.
Fast forward one more time, to the present. I think about death sometimes. Not in a morbid way, but rather the fact that each of us will die someday and that for the most part we don’t know when it will happen. I think about my dad dying suddenly at the age of 64. I think about one of my dear friends from high school dying at the age of 49 in a drowning accident while camping a couple of summers ago. I think about another high school friend dying in a car accident a year ago. And so on. Each time I hear news of the death of someone in my orbit, I am reminded that each day is a gift. I think about how, even though I’ve lived a full and interesting life so far, I’m nowhere near ready to go because there are so many things I still want to do with my life. Like traveling and experiencing the world with my partner. Writing my book. Not to mention all the things that I want to make. Isn’t that funny? I’m not ready to die yet because I haven’t finished all of the sewing projects on my list. Lol. I think of all the things that I want to create. Is that a purpose? I think so.
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