I got a mail today
From a sometimes member of my old writers’ consortium,
a very serious young man who is,
in my opinion,
and only from his writing, since we have never met,
a true seeker.
And with a beautiful soul.
He apparently
wants to ask me some questions.
Which I was so taken with I thought I would answer.
As best I can.
Which means get ready for flying herrings.
ie
He wants to know:
what is the purpose of my life?
(somehow that sounds a bit like Douglas Adams to me:
life, the universe, and everything,
one of the most serious books ever written, in my humble opinion.)
And he also wants to know how I identify my mojo-
does anyone but someone my age use that any more?
Well, perhaps someone who has seen Austin Powers,
oops, more humor in the face of serious questions-)
why I do what I do
(is that Groucho Marx I hear calling- or maybe it was Kenneth Branach)
and
most important of all,
am I enjoying what I am doing.
Small hint:
**** yes!
(the stars stand for “Oh my”)
So what is the deal with these questions?
The basis of our being, so to speak.
Here is my take,
as best,
and believe it or not,
as seriously (for once) as I can give it.
My purpose in life?
I was given a life to simply be ready.
I have spent my entire life learning all I can
saying yes to life whenever I can
because I trust God
and know he will put me in a particular place at a particular time.
My “brand” reads teacher, musician, conductor, writer
in that chronological order.
During my time doing these things,
I have done my best to create a situation where people can grow.
Yes, there were conflicts.
People who are injured look for teachers,
or more often to voice teachers.
And then try to crawl in their window at 3 am to live with them.
This is not metaphorical.
So…
You do what you can,
and then,
having given an impulse,
not usually from you,
but from what you are doing and why you are there,
you close the lines to protect yourself, gather your energy, and move on.
My personal experience:
People I taught languages/lit to,
or in my choirs,
stuck in bad jobs
have gotten hope again and moved on
and onward,
have gotten their personal lives in order-
Have put enough energy into something to be finally exhausted enough that the wheels stop turning (and slip-sliding) mentally,
and the real thinking starts.
If you put in energy, you get it back.
Basic law of the universe.
God to me, mine to them, theirs to others.
And occasionally back to me.
If you read, as I have, several times, the diaries of the puritans who settled America,
because I was “supposed to”
each time I learned something I was meant,
not supposed
to learn:
ie
first, they trusted.
Then
at the end of their lives,
they finally got given the real gifts,
the second of which,
was to understand exactly,
by rereading their diaries themselves,
why everything in their lives had to happen in exactly the way it did.
As for me
I trust.
As best I can.
Then I put in the energy from that trust into things I find important.
And have always gotten the energy back.
The mojo-
there’s that word again-
(by which I mean not some magic spell,
but energy, and joy-
call it joie de vivre-
to be put into whatever talent each of us has been given,)
is always there.
Usually more than you think.
I admit I am someone born with a high mojo level
but even I have been in spots-
ie after two emergency operations,
or a couple on family members-
where you just don’t know where the mojo will come from to save yourself.
Or others.
Who always seem to need you most at those moments.
In my case, it’s from God:
A kind nurse who moved me from a loud gabby impossble six bed ward
with a feeling that all chance of survival was slipping away, for example,
to a double room with a woman with worse injuries than mine,
and very strong religious beliefs.
And not necessarily my own.
Just solid.
And there.
We pooled strength.
And both survived.
And no, we are not both best friends.
Our lives are too different.
God put us together for the moment.
Trust.
So now to why I do what I do.
Because I have to.
The opposite of light, flow, expanding, growing,
is death.
And, as a favorite gym teacher of mine,
who died at 38 after living a very good and happy life once said
“a rut is a shallow grave. Keep walking in it, and you’ll get there faster.”
And as to enjoying my life:
humor is what God gives us to handle the nasty bits while He is changing us.
One woman’s opinion.
Oh, and before I forget:
The enjoying my life thing….
**** yes!
copyright Dunnasead.co 2016
Quahog on a Tightrope 