What the #@! Are You Gonna Do With Your Life?
Last Thursday, I was strolling into work mid-morning when I heard a regular female customer make the following announcement upon seeing me:
"There he is! We were just talking about you, Paul."
To me, that is never a good thing. It almost always implies guilt on the part of the speaker, especially when no further explanation is offered up. Such was the case this time, and so I smiled and nodded a quick "oh really?" response, and kept on trucking to the back room. When I came back out onto the floor to start my shift, I was pulled aside by my co-worker Corona, who had been a part of this little conversation about moi.
"You know what that customer just said about you?" she asked. I looked at her. Not a clue. But now I had to know.
"She was just asking me what you were going to do with the rest of your life."
Oh, really? Or should I say (more appropriately), OH REALLY???????!!!!
My initial impulse was to become enraged. Screw her, I said. Who is she to ask anyone what the #@! I'm going to do with the rest of my life?! Jeesh, just because you serve somebody a nonfat chai latte every weekday for almost three years doesn't mean she, or anyone else, has the right to inquire about such things. She doesn't know me. And what, does she have all the answers or something? Besides, It's none of her #@! business!
I was in full-on defense mode. Once I was done going off, I had a good laugh with Corona, and that was that. Or so I thought.
Fast-forward a couple of days. I was at a small gathering in the backyard of a new friend, watching a sweet, young German girl named Lucy perform some of the music she had been writing. In between the songs, Lucy told her story. It included how she left Germany and began traveling around the world. How she decided to come to Hawaii (on a whim). How she ended up meeting the man who became her husband this past summer. And most of all, how she followed her dreams. In fact, sitting there performing for all of us was a part of her dream. She decided she was a singer, and here she was, singing her heart out. And she was good. Really good. I was inspired by her story and lifted up by her sweet voice.
So there I sat in the early-evening darkness with chicken skin, feeling a bit choked up as if my heart was on full display. It was a peaceful feeling as far as such moments go, and I relaxed into it. I felt open and exposed, and it got me to think a little deeper about my life. I started to wonder what my own dreams were now, at this particular moment. Lots of food for thought, to say the least.
When Lucy was done performing, I began milling around the backyard, chatting with a few of the other partygoers. Suddenly, I was asked an interesting question by one of them. A question that was familiar to me, especially this particular week, and probably one that helped me get so emotional during this little outdoor concert. Though I wasn't conscious of it, apparently it was just sitting there, like a parrot on my shoulder that only the rest of the world could see.
"Paul, what do you want to do with the rest of your life?"
There it was again! I was flabbergasted. I won't reveal how I answered it, because my answer to that question during the course of my life has been different each time it was asked of me. I will say that I had no choice but to look within. Clearly I was putting it out there, this confusion and anxiety over the future. I looked closer at what I had been experiencing recently. Sure enough, there it was. I had been feeling stuck in many ways, and certainly questioning some things, if not that very question of what the #!@ I was going to do with the rest of my life.
Truthfully, I didn't know. But does anyone? Really?? Nah.
And so, I have arrived at the following decision. Contemplating that question feels like the weight ofthe world two worlds on my shoulders. So I must unravel it, down to the core. There is ultimately no answer, and besides, any answer I come up with seems to change as often as I breathe. I don't have to figure anything out. Maybe I'm not even supposed to. I just need to put one foot in front of the other. Yes, that makes more sense. Take care of this moment first. But only one moment at a time, please. No need to overwhelm myself.
What's more, I don't think doing anything is as important as simply being. And taken a step further, there is nothing more vital than how I feel about who I am being or what I am doing in this world. Attitude really does seem to be everything.
Perhaps this whole question of the future is just a plot hatched by my ego to fool myself into thinking that whatever I am doing right now is just not good enough. That makes sense to me. And really, how can I expect to make the most of every single moment of every single day if I spend all my time fretting over what the future will look like?
The future will create itself. All we can do is let go, and let it be. There are no guarantees, just like there are no simple answers to questions such as "what do you want to do with the rest of your life?" Probably the best answer is to just keep living. We will all find out soon enough what we are going to do with the rest of our lives. In the meantime, what's happening now is all we've really got. And it is good enough. In fact, it's probably even better than we give it credit for being. Taking a closer look at it seems as good a place to start as any.
I know I will think twice the next time I say that I am stuck, bored, or restless. And the next time I am asked what I will do with the rest of my life, I will answer. I just can't promise what I will say.
"There he is! We were just talking about you, Paul."
To me, that is never a good thing. It almost always implies guilt on the part of the speaker, especially when no further explanation is offered up. Such was the case this time, and so I smiled and nodded a quick "oh really?" response, and kept on trucking to the back room. When I came back out onto the floor to start my shift, I was pulled aside by my co-worker Corona, who had been a part of this little conversation about moi.
"You know what that customer just said about you?" she asked. I looked at her. Not a clue. But now I had to know.
"She was just asking me what you were going to do with the rest of your life."
Oh, really? Or should I say (more appropriately), OH REALLY???????!!!!
My initial impulse was to become enraged. Screw her, I said. Who is she to ask anyone what the #@! I'm going to do with the rest of my life?! Jeesh, just because you serve somebody a nonfat chai latte every weekday for almost three years doesn't mean she, or anyone else, has the right to inquire about such things. She doesn't know me. And what, does she have all the answers or something? Besides, It's none of her #@! business!
I was in full-on defense mode. Once I was done going off, I had a good laugh with Corona, and that was that. Or so I thought.
Fast-forward a couple of days. I was at a small gathering in the backyard of a new friend, watching a sweet, young German girl named Lucy perform some of the music she had been writing. In between the songs, Lucy told her story. It included how she left Germany and began traveling around the world. How she decided to come to Hawaii (on a whim). How she ended up meeting the man who became her husband this past summer. And most of all, how she followed her dreams. In fact, sitting there performing for all of us was a part of her dream. She decided she was a singer, and here she was, singing her heart out. And she was good. Really good. I was inspired by her story and lifted up by her sweet voice.
So there I sat in the early-evening darkness with chicken skin, feeling a bit choked up as if my heart was on full display. It was a peaceful feeling as far as such moments go, and I relaxed into it. I felt open and exposed, and it got me to think a little deeper about my life. I started to wonder what my own dreams were now, at this particular moment. Lots of food for thought, to say the least.
When Lucy was done performing, I began milling around the backyard, chatting with a few of the other partygoers. Suddenly, I was asked an interesting question by one of them. A question that was familiar to me, especially this particular week, and probably one that helped me get so emotional during this little outdoor concert. Though I wasn't conscious of it, apparently it was just sitting there, like a parrot on my shoulder that only the rest of the world could see.
"Paul, what do you want to do with the rest of your life?"
There it was again! I was flabbergasted. I won't reveal how I answered it, because my answer to that question during the course of my life has been different each time it was asked of me. I will say that I had no choice but to look within. Clearly I was putting it out there, this confusion and anxiety over the future. I looked closer at what I had been experiencing recently. Sure enough, there it was. I had been feeling stuck in many ways, and certainly questioning some things, if not that very question of what the #!@ I was going to do with the rest of my life.
Truthfully, I didn't know. But does anyone? Really?? Nah.
And so, I have arrived at the following decision. Contemplating that question feels like the weight of
What's more, I don't think doing anything is as important as simply being. And taken a step further, there is nothing more vital than how I feel about who I am being or what I am doing in this world. Attitude really does seem to be everything.
Perhaps this whole question of the future is just a plot hatched by my ego to fool myself into thinking that whatever I am doing right now is just not good enough. That makes sense to me. And really, how can I expect to make the most of every single moment of every single day if I spend all my time fretting over what the future will look like?
The future will create itself. All we can do is let go, and let it be. There are no guarantees, just like there are no simple answers to questions such as "what do you want to do with the rest of your life?" Probably the best answer is to just keep living. We will all find out soon enough what we are going to do with the rest of our lives. In the meantime, what's happening now is all we've really got. And it is good enough. In fact, it's probably even better than we give it credit for being. Taking a closer look at it seems as good a place to start as any.
I know I will think twice the next time I say that I am stuck, bored, or restless. And the next time I am asked what I will do with the rest of my life, I will answer. I just can't promise what I will say.
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