Just the other day I walked around the yard and thought, “What’s it all about, this life? Why are we here? Why am I here?”
Truth be told I’ve asked myself this many, many times. I’m a deep thinker.
At twelve I thought my little family and my little town was the entire world. Looking back, I can see it all like a snow globe scene. Life’s little dramas with friends and siblings, they seemed so big to me then.
At eighteen I was utterly clueless. I fell in love, got married. Not a thought given to doing something with my life, or what I was meant for or supposed to do, who I was meant to be.
Late twenties found me divorced, two kids, then re-married and a new child on the way. I always wanted children. I always thought I was a writer. Those are about the only things I knew.
I always chased God. I always wanted to know who He was. What it was all about. Again, why are we here? Why am I here? Yada-yada. Deep thinking. Apparently, another thing I’ve always been is a philosopher.
Once as a small child, the family was outside on an unseasonably warm Christmas Eve night and my dad pointed up to the stars and said he thought he saw Santa’s sleigh. I ran to the end of the driveway, (as far as I was allowed to go at the time), so I could get closer and see it better. My entire family thought this was hilarious and busted out laughing. At the time I couldn’t understand, despite all their explanations, why that was funny. I had no concept of how far away the stars were. I must’ve been about three.
If I knew then what I know now, I’d have gone to college and studied the stars, took science and biology and oh-so-many classes about everything. I may have been a perpetual life-long student. (But only as long as I still had my beloved kids.)
I’ve learned a lot by this time in my life. In fact, I dare say, I know more about some things than some people who have degrees. Of course, there is still a lot I don’t know, particularly outside of the world of writing. (I have taken a couple college-level courses but never completed a degree, being too busy at raising babies for much of my life.)
I get documents submitted to me through the publishing company by degreed people all the time that are unreadable and unpublishable. But I’ve learned a lot in my chosen field by reading, reading, reading, and writing, writing, writing. This combined with my passion for the written word has brought me to a place where I now help others get published, help others become better, more confident writers. I believe strongly in education, but it is not and will never be a substitute for hard work and passion and die-hard perseverance. God-given talent helps, and I think/hope I have that. (Confidence in yourself and what you do, your mindset, is everything.)
So, all this rambling to say this: I still don’t know, and will not ever, truly understand why we’re here. But part of what I am and I’m supposed to do has been revealed to me. Revealed by a still/small voice that guides me and shows me what is uniquely me, what I do, what I should do while on planet earth. I believe we can all discover this, what makes us uniquely us.
I still look at my garden and wonder at the beauty and variety of plants and flowers. I still read, I still write, I still philosophize. I still look for God everywhere and in everything.
I still look at the stars and look for Santa’s sleigh in December. And in many various ways, I still reach for those stars.