The one TJEd concept that has most intrigued me is that of mission. I have a
unique mission that I am on earth to fulfill, and that is the purpose of my
life. Everything else I’ve studied falls into place under that single
overarching idea. My life has meaning, and I have a work to perform. That’s
both truly comforting and terribly disturbing, carrying a message of
inspiration and huge responsibility. I have a work to do that is mine alone,
and if it dies with me, it goes undone. Of course, the same is true of you.
Have you personally begun to uncover the meaning of your life? But more
important, are you taking the steps necessary to accomplish that mission? I
tend to think that most of us have a long way to go on this path called
mission. I certainly do! But just knowing that I have a mission and that it’s
my job to discover it and accomplish it gives a great deal of focus and power
to the things I choose to do.
I recently attended a talk given by Dr. Shannon Brooks to our group here in
Arizona, where he spent some time discussing the nature of mission. In it he
paraphrased Aristotle’s definition of virtue: something is virtuous when it
does the thing for which it was created (e.g. a pair of scissors is virtuous
when they cut a clean straight line). If we apply that definition to ourselves,
we are presented with the question, “Am I accomplishing the purpose for which I
was created?” And that question leads straight to another question. “What was I
created to do?” That is the quest, to find the answer to what is both the most
personal and yet most universal of questions. Answer that question and you find
your mission. Find your mission, and everything else falls into place.
So how do you find your mission? I’m not sure I can really answer that
question, at least not for anyone other than myself. For me, the answer came
through writing. When I first climbed out of the box (you know, the one
everyone always tells you to think outside of), I discovered so many possible
courses of action that I was completely overwhelmed. Where before I saw only a
few options, now there were too many to choose from. It’s like coming to the
world’s biggest buffet, but you only get one plate. There are so many
incredible-looking options, but you can only try so much. I was stuck, not
wanting to continue the way I had been going, but afraid to pick the wrong
thing. (That conveyor belt training sure does a good job of instilling a fear
of failure, doesn’t it?) Over the course of four or five years, I probably came
up with fifteen or twenty different ideas of what I should be doing with my
life. However, I only acted on about two of them, and even then I quit pretty
quickly.
I finally got some advice from my mentor. She suggested that I go someplace
where I could be alone for a few days, just to mull things over. She also gave
me a technique I have used a number of times since then: write at least three
pages, and by the end you’ll have your answer. Even if you have to start by
writing something like “I’m sitting here on this uncomfortable camp chair
writing about nothing, and I don’t even know why,” by the time you get to the
end of the third page, you’ll have your answer. Oddly, it’s worked for me every
time.