Relationship, Identity

Mission

Every one us starts with a place in time, a set of people and surroundings, and specific resources.

From this vantage, we begin to establish a relationship with the Cosmos — elements within us which already have structure and pattern with genes and DNA commence to interact with all of these objects and persons.

As we learn from these settings what works and what doesn’t, what gets such and such a response (or is that consistent?), where can we go to find this, what do we love about this and this, we begin to form a sense of self as a reaction to that space.

Then spaces and persons change (say, as we go to school) and this newly burgeoning identity attempts to apply the initial nascent structure to new settings, failing and succeeding and being challenged and supported (or not supported) and this named “I” begins to take a thicker, richer substance, becoming more and more “solidified” in whatever is sensical to our person throughout the changes.

As this identity and person mature, we begin to arrive at our mission — our “purpose” or “pursuit” or “adventure” or “calling.” Then this is folded into the identity pie, our heart rich with meaning, and our mind lit with spirit.

Or not. You could be like me and, after the common binge-drinking of college, just when my mission might’ve begun to become clear, you might find your self in a state of arrested development, in which you find your identity has not quite congealed, and begin to lean more and more on alcohol to get you through certain situations until it becomes habitual and even daily.

You might find yourself moving through jobs, cities, relationships clinging to some simple sense that your mission is simply to create: poems, songs, etc., and to make it through life as best you can.

But without a strong, healthy identity and clear sense of purpose everything seems muddy, chaotic, threatening, impermanent.

You might have moments in your life where you clean up and begin to reach out, establishing more consistent relationships and getting some sense of order and pattern to start growing a small amount again.

But a pandemic might come through, or an authoritarian. God forbid you have a wildfire.

You find yourself wishing you’d had better relationships and a better identity set up.

So you start again, which is a strange thing because, in doing so, you find that many if not most of the things you thought you hadn’t learned are still there — albeit in a different form, with new light, cautious promise, and Mercy and Love.

So you begin, in winter, to plan for your garden. What you don’t have will need to be bought. What you do have will need to be tended to arranged, spoken to, prayed for.

After 25 years, I still find poetry (read generally, more later on this) to be my primary mission — and I’m seeing now how my failure to properly nurture my relationships, worship my God, and practice my Ethics has prevented me from my avocation.

And I’ve learned that part of the mission of Poetry is to Love abundantly.

I’m so happy to have the opportunity to see each day with fresh eyes.

With much warmth and genuine affection, I hope your week has started off well and I send you fond thoughts.

Affectedly, 
 
Aaron