I’ve been thinking a lot about purpose…my purpose, other people’s purpose, the country’s purpose, the world…so much thinking going on in this head of mine…all the damn time. I believe that my purpose is to become who I am. That’s my mission. Become fully who I am. I think that’s everyone’s purpose. Their personal purpose. People can have other purposes other goals. Purposes bigger than themselves. My beyond myself purpose, as in what I’m meant to do, is to help people heal, have healthy relationships, and become the best version of themselves. To use my pain to help others in pain. To turn traumas into triumphs…that’s super corny. How about…to use every experience, good or bad, for an evolution. An evolution into our complete and beautiful selves. Life can be so hard but even in the difficulties there are opportunities to learn and grow…for transformation. Like a caterpillar reduced to goo in order to become what they are meant to be, a butterfly. The butterfly is in there…waiting to become. We are all waiting to become.

Now to become who I am, I have to know who I am. I often say that in order to be loved we have to be known. And to be known we have to be seen. We don’t let people see who we are unless we trust them. Trust that they can accept what they see and that they can handle us with gentleness…like you would a baby. When I worked in child protection I had to remove a baby from his mom because of substance abuse. The mom brought her son into me voluntarily because she could she knew…she understood what her son needed. While I was waiting for the foster parents, I held that infant in my arms. My workplace tended to be busy, kind of loud, and fast paced, but I couldn’t be any of those things with an infant in my arms. I told coworkers we should all hold babies everyday. We couldn’t hurry or raise our voices, if we had to focus on the baby first. Everything else would be secondary. Everyone who worked there would have been less stressed and a better human because of it.

Now back to my point…although I do love babies. That is not my point. Just as we want to be handled by other people tenderly and gently, like a baby, we need to offer that same softness to ourselves. I never want to scare or startle a baby. It would be cruel to make them cry intentionally. But I can be cruel with myself. I am not going to let anyone else see me and know me if they are cruel to me. I will keep myself hidden and you will see a shell of who I am. I will protect myself. I do the same thing dealing with myself. I don’t always see fully or know myself because I am harsh with me. I am impatient. I expect myself to know everything and be perfect. How’s that going for me? Not great. But what would I see with tenderness? With unconditional acceptance and love? If I handled my fragile heart like I did that baby in my arms.

I love to read, and I am usually reading 4-5 books at a time. I have categories of what I read, health, politics/history, spirituality, abuse recovery/personal growth, and something just for pleasure. Well…I read all the books for pleasure. For a long time, I thought I’d come across THE book, the one that would answer all my questions and make me feel whole and complete. It would fill in the holes I feel in my life…not my life so much as my person. Gaps in my development…gaps I perceive. Holes where I feel something lacking…something missing.

I have not found that one book. The one with the answers. The one that shows me how to put the puzzle of me together into a final picture. Nothing more to do because it’s complete…I am complete. All the pieces are there, and they fit so neatly. I will never find that because no such book exists. The answers for me and about me, are already here. They are in me.

When I read books for personal growth I am not putting something into me to make me better. Make me more. I am awakening something already there. Something hidden or buried. Unattended. Neglected. I am realizing nothing needs to be added for me to be complete. Something needs to be freed. So much of who we are gets buried. Buried by time. Buried by trauma and pain. Buried by loss, fear, or neglect. Or by refusal…refusal to accept or understand. Or buried by success, wealth, power. Whatever we experience that causes us to forget or reject who we are.

In our search for ourselves we take on false identities because we learned from an early age that what we see before us is not enough. Not good enough. Not smart enough. Not healthy, skinny, funny, determined, capable, or whatever enough. We seek an image of who we think we should be. Who we believe we need to be. An image forced upon us. I cannot find me in a coerced image. I will not love me if I don’t know me. And I will not know me if I don’t see me. I cannot see me as long as I force an ideal upon myself. An ideal I know innately is not me…and never will be. I am seen when I allow my broken and beautiful self to be uncovered. My perfectly imperfect me.

Love demands that we become who we are. Who we are meant to be. To come fully into our isness…or my meness. To fully inhabit the person that is me. We must see ourselves as we are…all the damage and imperfections. See ourselves with kindness. With compassion. See so we can know…so we can love. See without the external cosmetics I use to disguise the flaws…the parts that scare me. Me without fear. Me without conditions. Me with complete acceptance. Me in all my messiness. The broken and beautiful me. The me that steps out of the goo of transformation…and is ready to fly. The freedom found in just being me.

We already have everything we need. We can stop the search. Relax and appreciate the goo. Because in the end all that matters is how we love people…that includes ourselves. In fact, it begins with ourselves. Let’s give ourselves a big helping of love and see what we can see.