Yesterday, I spent 7 hours (off and on) in conversation with my brother Ian. We have become each other’s many things. It is through him and with him that I can see just how far I have come and how much further I have to go. I hope he doesn’t mind me putting a little bit of his business out here. I’m doing it out of love and also out of knowing that it is his business that is also mine.
I haven’t been shy both online and offline about how shitty of a year last year was for me. Hell. I’m still dusting the ashes off my hair, beard, and shoulders. Last year was about going through the process and finding answers. Most of it was spent rebuking the process, though. It seemed like with every answer came with it a new question, and that pissed me off more than anything. The weight of having to figure it out while being watched by people, directly and indirectly, added pressure too.
Ian is experiencing bits and pieces of what I experienced last year. Even more interesting is that my biological brother is as well.
The following letter is to Ian, little brother, and all of my others brothers and sisters that are trying to find their way.
Many of us will spend our entire lives trying to please everyone around us. We will get degrees we won’t fully use or use at all. We’ll work jobs we don’t like and stay in those jobs too because they pay well. We’ll make friends with or marry people we really can’t stand, let alone love. And often, we will limit who we know ourselves to be just to fit in.
We will completely, and do this with an overwhelming amount of confidence, deny ourselves the life we are supposed to live because the person who wants to live that life, fails (we think) to measure up to the standards and expectations that others have placed upon them.
For years I have struggled with owning the idea that I am good enough. If I can be honest with you, I still struggle with this. I have flaws that I am ashamed to disclose even now. I have horrible habits that are so hard to break that I find myself questioning, is attempting to do so even worth it. My dreams scare me and not because I believe that they are unattainable. They scare me because I know that when I do achieve them, the real work starts all over again.
How do we get to a place of peace with the process, when the process leaves us in pieces?
This question has stumped me every time I asked it to myself. Until now.
What if our perception is the key to our life changing? What if being in pieces is the connection to our promised place and not being whole? No. That is the key. This isn’t for debate. We have to change the way we view the process to submit to it. The process is what is normal, and the state of calamity is the illusion of abnormality. I think much of our extended stay in spaces we have far outgrown is due to our inability to become comfortable with the fact that there is always work to do. There are always things to unlearn, love to give yourself and others, sacrifices to make, failures to work through and setbacks to get back up from.
So the charge, I think, is for you – and for me – to figure out how do you want to become one with your process so that you could become one with your purpose.
Also published on Medium.