Part of the human condition, and human nature itself, is that we are creatures who long for meaning and purpose in life. For me it has always been a quest -- a necessity -- a driving force. Even now, as I ask myself when and what actually has provided me with that sense of purpose in the past, I find myself looking for a new connection to it.
I can pull out a few particular things that just felt "right" in my life. They each provided a stepping stone to anchor my foot in the swell of the rushing river that was my life. Each moment that I allowed myself to grab on to that thing that held purpose, meaning, and something quite beyond myself, I felt grounded, I was never sorry I took the route I did.
But that sense of purpose, for me, has always been illusive. I want it here and now, in every waking moment...and sleeping one. I feel as if I am doing "something wrong" when I can't find a limb to hold on to...that I'm missing the mark...and I am adrift.
I wonder if we're meant to be able to see our purpose at all times or if the looking and searching is equally important, or at least necessary. I wish I knew. I get tired of the wondering, the longing, the feeling of disconnectedness...and yet it pushes me forward...relentlessly.