For the past 4 months, I have really been focusing on my purpose. I have dreams for myself, just like we all do, but I feel like I have been fighting an uphill battle to realize them.
I know I am not alone in this. My sister-friends, the people I follow on twitter and my coworkers have been working on the same thing.
I took a job a bit over a year ago, and it felt like a blessing. I wanted a change in my life. I am in healthcare, and while I found my job to be impactful, I found myself angry at the health care disparities I was facing daily. I hated that I had to fight to get visits for the patients who needed me most, while I could see patients who had plateaued for visits on end. I wanted to move to a job that let me make a real difference, one that would let me see the difference I made day-to-day…and then I was presented with an opportunity.
I was blessed with a job I didn’t meet the qualifications for. I sat in 2-2.5 hour California gridlock to interview 4 times. I thanked God for the pay increase, and then I started.
I soon realized that the disparity was bigger than in the provision of care; the disparity extended to training the providers of care. I got angry about the money I wasn’t making, about the financial struggles I thought I had moved away from, about the difference I didn’t feel like I was making. I burst a blood vessel in my eye. I said “fuck this” more times than I could count. I quit in real life and in my mind to go back to what was comfortable, but I never fully pulled the trigger. I had the same conversation for what felt like a million times, about how I wasn’t valued, about how things weren’t changing. I took it to God, my mentors, my dad, and my trusted counselors….and still I stayed.
A friend/sister/Bf/trusted counselor reminded me recently that I was the devil in the details. Throughout, she has reminded me to take a breath, see it through, and pushed me to stretch, especially when it was most uncomfortable.
Reflecting on it, I realize that it was in my struggles that I found my purpose.
I personify the voice unheard, the story untold. I have the hard conversations. I hold the mirror to people’s faces when they would rather look way. I ask people to confront themselves: the time they feel they do or don’t have, the support they feel they are missing, the gaps between knowledge and application. I represent the path less taken, the unknown unknown, the jump between who you were, who you are, and who you are going to be. I have taken disdain, anger, pain, sadness, fear, and indignation and turned it into therapeutic tools. I bridged the gap between empowering and enabling. I have been silent when I wanted to shout to the mounts and stood my ground when other people would be silent because it is easy. I have chosen to be effective instead of being right. I have chosen to set the bar high when other people would accept mediocrity. I have asked for accountability when other people would accept excuses.
My job allows me to help people turn crutches into hurdles they can overcome. My job has allowed me to ask people to stretch beyond what they think is possible. In that, I have found my purpose. My job forces me to acknowledge -and to help others acknowledge- the grey in a world that is easier to digest in black and white. My job has helped me make square pegs pass through round holes. My job has helped me realize I vision I have for the program and the school I serve, as well as to navigate the loopholes that exist in the systems we work, play and live in.
The last year has reinforced for me that the detours we take along the way have meaning if we are willing to live in the moment. I realize that every step I take has prepared me for what is to come, and I am learning to find comfort in that even when things are hard. It is in the most difficult season that we learn the lesson if we are open. I realize that God answer our prayers in Divine Timing, even when it isn’t our timing. Especially then.
I have blogged about the ways that God instills divine Mastery, and my life, my journey, my path is a testament and my testimony to that. I see the ways that my experiences help me personify the voice, have the hard conversations, and bridge the gap. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t hard, but I’d be damned if I said it wasn’t worth it.