November 21, 2017
The new numbers just came back. The numbers that indicate if Michael’s new drug, the “last” drug, is working. And at least so far, it isn’t. The numbers remain stubbornly outside of the normal range and are almost exactly what they were on the previous drug which also wasn’t working.
Of course the word from the medical community is to give it time. The hope is that there is a cumulative effect and Michael has been told to stay on this new drug for a year. Regardless, both of our minds can’t help buzzing with this news, can’t help projecting ahead into the unknown, can’t help wondering what our next step is if there’s no improvement in the several months ahead.
“Maybe I’ve completed my purpose,” Michael says this to me as we sit on the couch facing each other to talk about the future once again. “I mean, maybe my soul purpose is done.”
“Maybe,” I say, “but I don’t know.”
He says this without self-pity. It’s just a statement of fact. The things he used to do, and the things he is doing now, are drying up. They’re not quite flowing. Naturally we both take this as a sign. For one reason or another, the flow of reality is not lining up with Michael’s efforts. This is unusual for him and it catches our attention.
He says, “It seems to me it’s a message. Things aren’t working for me.”
I can tell he really is seeing this clearly. It’s not about feeling sorry for himself. He’s simply noticing the flow of events, noticing where the flow is blocked and he’s not taking it personally.
“So what do you think that means?” I ask.
“It may mean my soul purpose is completed. It may mean I’m supposed to die.”
So now the entire question of one’s soul purpose presents itself at a deeper level and it opens up a huge area of inquiry. How do we even know what our life purpose is? And if it is completed, which in itself seems almost impossible to know, does that mean it is time to die? Can it ever truly be finished? Aren’t some of the greater purposes infinite in nature? Aren’t they always somewhat of a mystery?
Michael had a clear soul purpose before this illness: he was a healer and a teacher and he has done these things. But those purposes have been taken away and it’s likely they won’t return. And everyone who retires is more or less facing this same question – what is my purpose if I’m not doing what I’ve always done? How do I share myself in a way that supports my sense of purpose, in a way that furthers the greater good? And those who are ill may face an especially difficult question: What is my purpose if I’m no longer even able to do what I would like to do?
Add to this the interesting fact that Michael’s spiritual awakening occurred just a few months prior to his diagnosis, and the question becomes even more complicated. Was his life purpose simply to wake up? And then what? Die?
I believe our life purpose is something that can be discovered but it’s far more mysterious than our careers, or our partners, or our hobbies. Some people are born knowing what their purpose is in life. But most of us aren’t that fortunate and we have to stumble around while trying to figure it out, and sometimes we never do.
In my stumbling I’m learning that we don’t move through life, life moves through us. And in that movement we encounter exactly what life wants from us whether we know it or not. Life has its own agenda! And we may, or may not, ever know what it is. In fact, it’s possible that we don’t have to accomplish any particular thing in order for our purpose to be lived. It’s not about what we do, it’s about who we are.
So who is Michael now? He is a man who is facing death with as much dignity and acceptance as he can gather. He takes in the latest medical numbers with relative calm and with a sense of surrender to the greater Mystery.
Who am I? I am the woman watching the man facing death and trying to deal with the many impossible feelings that arise as I do so, trying to face all of it with humility, love, and raw truth. Elucidating this process seems to be my purpose right now.
One thing I’ve discovered for sure is that it doesn’t matter how many mental gyrations I go through – it still hurts. Each new layer of illness is another loss, another adjustment, another tragedy, and it does no good to deny this. There is a huge amount of suffering in watching this drama unfold and there is no way around it. And, ultimately, thank god for it!
Through these events I am being given the immense gift of time. For time is letting me work through this process and is allowing me to feel more than I’ve felt in years. Time is giving my mind the space to thrive on thoughts and words that I never knew were in me. Time is allowing tremendous spiritual richness in the encounter with death and dying. And finally, even though I am deeply sad, in some profound way, time is making me grateful for sorrow.
For all of it is true! All the feelings, all the thoughts, all the ambivalence, and all the events. The revelation, over and over, is that this is the truth of life and death. This is the way it is. And even this level of suffering and loss is worth it. I’m learning that as harsh as it is, the experience of life and death is worth the suffering, for within it we have the opportunity to find our best and highest selves.
If life purpose is actually about who we are rather than what we do, it seems to me that all we can really do is take the next step, the one that is right in front of us, and take it with as much integrity, and presence, and grace as we can muster. Each step leads to another, and with each step we learn to trust the process of simply Being more and more deeply. And even though sometimes a step plunges us into chaos, chaos can become our greatest teacher.
We can learn to do this dance of life with all of its missteps, gracelessness, and errors. We can learn to trust that if we fully do the dance, with every part of our being, in the end we will be led to know why we’ve come here. For ultimately, this feels like it is life’s purpose — to live as fully and deeply as we dare.