...making waves in still waters
Having taken a PurposeQuest International seminar and a semester with the founder and president of that great organization in college, I know this is my purpose. Purpose is something that you eat and breath and just are, outside of a role, social norms or the nature vs. nurture debate. Purpose is something inside each of us that cries out and exists despite any attempt to squash and dismiss. For some, it's organization. For others, it's serving the poor. For me, it's calling out the deep potential within and not allowing the water to settle before calling it out again, and again. My existence makes waves in still waters.
Unfortunately, this often gives way to uncomfortable controversy, an unsettling baring of the soul that most people try their entire lives to cover. I know the reputation I carry; it's an unfortunate result to intentions that are more about an integrity to the deep-sleeping-beauty inside the hearts and souls of individuals or institutions than the wave itself. Nothing tortures me like wasted potential. Nothing breaks my heart more...
I don't make waves because it's fun for me. I don't call out perceived injustices because it's entertaining. I don't make waves because I ever TRY to make waves. I make waves because I was born to save beautiful things. I was created to cause the storm that produces choppy water and stirred up sediment. People should never get that comfortable in the ugliness of repressions, deceptions, rejections, fears or hypocrisies. If you've ever found yourself in the midst of my vortex of intensity, I can promise you - I'm just as surprised as you. I don't seek it out. It just happens. Purpose can sometimes be painful. Inescapable. Lonely.
After several years of wondering and studying and taking personality test after test, I release myself to this truth; I will always dive in. It is more painful for me to silence and sensor self than it is to dive in, make the wave, and thrash around in the shit storm that is often my legacy. Part of this purpose is rescue. Part of this purpose seems mean. Part of this purpose is healing. Part of this purpose produces great freedom. But it's not a system. Oh no, it's not a system. In fact, systems and purpose are often in great conflict with one another. It's the system that I'm often obliged to make waves in. I want to look like Jesus here; cutting through red tape.
I have however at times tried to silence myself, to stifle purpose. But like in labor, when you're exhausted from pushing - it's still more painful not to push than exert the energy to push. There are times, oh yes, that I have not dived in, in the name of "strategy" or "wisdom" or out of "respect" - otherwise known as "fear of being misunderstood" or "fear of financial repercussion" or "fear of personal rejection." Giving into the fear is always more painful than living in purpose. Still, I've been cautioned time and again to get out of the water because one shouldn't "die on every hill." I think this is why "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere" - MLK, is my favorite quote. It's my beacon of courage; my manifesto. All reformers, on any scale, have thrown caution to the wind. Fear aside, they march up those hills. They'll risk death, every. single. time.
But I don't move earth. I move water. There's no hill to die on here. The biggest mistake I've ever made has had more to do with misjudging the depth of the water, on the deep end. The potential within has been strikingly more shallow than what I judged in the initial dive. I am eternally optimistic. I always believe in love, that there is redemption for all people. I have, at times, assumed that the water is deeper, that the potential is greater. That is why I won't die on a hill. I'll hit my head on a rock, first.
Metaphor's aside, I'm writing this for me this morning. I need to reclaim something inside myself. The wave needs to be alive in me first. And lately, I've been guilty of calming the movement inside, for fear of being misunderstood or fear of financial repercussion or fear of personal rejection. I'm in the throws of labor and have stopped pushing, hard. For months now, I've been battling depression. A slow leak of energy, joy, peace and passion has seeped out of me and I've faded. Faded into a dull color of myself, wading in a stagnant, shallow pool. There's been a failure to thrive in the waters that has only happened a few other times in my life. It's been hard. I've allowed difficult circumstances and a compromise for ease, stifle my purpose and the essence of me.
I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror a few weeks ago in the midst of what I consider a grave injustice that 'Lindsay-living-in-purpose' would never cower to, and cold water rushed through me once again. Beautiful currents; dangerous movement. Sediment stirred (not shaken). Purpose asking to be reclaimed. In that moment, I made a promise to myself. That I would dive here, for this cause, over this issue. One last time. Here. And I would not cower to the fears that have held me back from being who I was created to be. The process has begun. And today I push forward. It's critical, for me. Like a tipping point. Because if I continue to walk the path of ease and fear and compromise, the fire that magically burns inside of me, even submerged in water, will go out. Everything that makes me, me - will be morphed. I owe it to myself, my husband, my children, my friends and even the institutions I serve, to be me. Not to cower but to rise up, dive in, be the wave and catalyst for the sake of the potential within.
Beauty is always worth fighting for. Even if I'm diving alone; I'll get out.
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