Ever wonder why you're here?

       Before my fourth birthday, I recognized how my existence improved life for those around me. My kisses sent Mom’s cousin Fred reeling, sometimes landing him flat on the floor. Buster’s bad moods dissolved when I held his hand, easing the lines on his wife’s face and the atmosphere for everyone in the room. Uncle Charlie couldn’t look at me without smiling, and my parents exuded their love for me with each breath they drew.

       Making the world a happy place was a great purpose, with enjoyable, natural responsibilities: smile, behave, remember, and love. I was honored with my rewarding position and grateful to have inherited the tools I needed to perform it well. Life was good.

       My fundamental purpose remained fixed, but my focus and responsibilities grew with me as I accumulated years, people, and wisdom - and lost resources and innocence. Siblings, cousins, and friends, each wanting something different, complicated matters. At least, it felt obscured from my perspective; a cousin later told me I had somehow managed to make others play what I wanted and think it was their idea to do so.

       I heard that message echoed by an employer later in life, when he commended me for being able to manipulate committees into thinking my ideas were theirs. What the cousin and employer missed was the fact that those ideas were not always my personal first choice. They were my judgment of what would be best for everyone concerned, and therefore realize my purpose.

            Eventually, people criticized me for wanting to please others, and the word enabler shook my world. Circumstances changed in my life. Personal hardships required more of my energy, leaving not as much for others. I struggled with feelings of division and diluted purpose, but couldn’t let go of what I believed was my truth and everything that mattered in my life.

            I realized I could use my misfortunes to help others. As I learned to manage my new life, my purpose grew into a belief that it was my job to experience everything, so I might use that knowledge to help others. I welcomed adversity, dissected each circumstance in search of the wisdom it could bring, and resumed my purpose.

            Recent years brought physical changes - a failed immune system and uncooperative body - that restrict my ability to interact with people. Initially, it seemed impossible to make this a better world for the people around me if I couldn’t be around people. Again, I grew my purpose to fit my world, replacing individual focus with a sociological interest. Today, I do my best to stay informed and socially active, to make the world a better place for people who will never know I exist.

            Where there’s a purpose with a strong will behind it, there is a way.

Sandy Knauer