Why are You Here?

Why are you here, on this planet, at this particular time in history, born into your family with its unique personalities, characteristics and perhaps, dysfunctional relationships? What stories have you created to bring meaning to your experiences, your conflicts, your trials and tribulations? Are there areas in your life where you have stopped growing and evolving?

At some point, every person who has ever taken a breath on this planet has asked these or similar questions. It is the quality of your “wondering” questions that define your life. The answers you receive are there, waiting to be discovered, accepted and celebrated.

The journey of self-inquiry can begin at any time. For some, tragedy spurs them to ask the tough questions. For others, a failed marriage or a serious health scare can motivate self-awareness. But for me, it was none of those things. I was simply an unfulfilled product of the Baby Boomer Generation. When I turned 48 years old, I had reached the sign on my path that read, “Is this all there is?”

Not as dramatic as becoming a widow before the age of 30 or surviving cancer and starting a nonprofit foundation to help raise money for research. But there it is…I was basically dissatisfied with myself and unfulfilled by my chosen career.

The seeds of discontentment can reap a bountiful crop. Once I began to look for answers, it almost seemed as if they were right there in front of me. Of course, that is always true…I had only to open my mind to see them.

Remember to start from where you are and allow your curiosity to lead you forward, one step at a time. You will be amazed at what you discover about yourself, your belief and thought patterns and how they have created your life. Once you have that “Aha” moment, you will recognize that if you created your life as it is today, and then maybe you can create a different life. It is the process of creation at its best — and your life is the final product!

Write a Love Letter

With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, I started thinking about a unique way to say “I love you” to the special people in my life.  Dinner for two, a nice card and a hug are my usual gifts on Valentine’s Day.  These things do not require a lot of time or thought, but it always leaves me feeling slightly deflated, as if I did not do enough.

But what is the answer to the perennial question of “What is enough?”

The florists and department stores would respond by saying, “You must buy this or that to show your love.”  The jewelers are busy this time of year trying to convince you that diamonds really will make her eyes sparkle and that an expensive watch is the absolute guarantee of his approval.

But do the treasures of love really lie out there – in the world? Or are love’s assets hidden, only to be revealed by the people involved?

My answer is the latter. It is only when I share my heart with another that I feel connected. No expensive bauble, delicious dinner or sweet confection will forge that bond that must exist when love is present.  Mine the treasures of the heart and you will hit the real stuff of living.

So I decided to do something different this year.  I will write a love letter to my dear husband and daughter. One that is heartfelt, sincere and hopefully funny. A gentle reminder of the good that we share and the love that covers it all.  One that is filled with stories of our life together, examples of all the little ways I love them and the gratitude I feel for sharing the same space and the same life.

But just to be safe, a trip to the drug store and a reservation at our favorite restaurant wouldn’t be such a bad idea!

 

 

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Take a minute to read the attached blog from Hannah Brencher, the instigator behind “More Letters.”

hannah brencher.

“Now, in just a few minutes these doors are going to open and you’ll have the opportunity to put all the things you learned today into action… does everyone have their resumes ready?”

I was standing in the middle of a hotel lobby in Newport, Rhode Island, surrounded by a slew of undergraduates wearing bad khakis and ballet flats and praying for the life of me that I might disappear. That the roof might cave in. That anything would transpire to keep me from heading into the gauntlet to “network.”

I was attending a leadership conference. I was a senior in college and all sorts of antsy about my future and the “real world.” Networking would be the creme brulee of the evening and we’d be unleashed into a room full of professionals who were “supposedly” interested in what we had to say.

We’d spent the afternoon learning how to balance…

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