I don't claim to understand God. I am not religious and have no faith whatsoever in traditional dogma. Whether God is a guy in the sky, a beautiful sunset or the perfect meal doesn't really matter to me. Yes, sometimes I think God is food. However, I do know the spiritual sense of purpose I feel when I can say, 'this is what I was meant to do in the world.' It's been a long time since I felt that.
As my career in health care has progressed and changed over he past 15 years, I have become more and more removed from the type of human connection I find meaningful. Like a slow leak, it was hardly noticeable at first, overshadowed by my need to conquer the next challenge, and then the next. Denial worked its magic, assuring me that the stale air of corporate life is important, even though it is often filled with activity that is mundane and...pretend. Gone are the days of pulsating drama inside the hospital when I could see and feel where I was needed most and respond to that need in the moment. Never did I feel more radiant and alive. Never have I felt closer to my interpretation of God.
Since my parents died, I am haunted by their unfulfilled dreams and the shortness of life, especially in light of my own quiet desperation. I have explored other work, or moving out of state to find my lost sense of purpose. Then suddenly, an epiphany. Someone else saw it first, as if this person looked inside my soul and spoke the truth that I knew was there, but couldn't clearly see. And the truth, as it always does, set me free.
Photo from desertpeace.wordpress.com
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