Purpose
Several months ago I wrote about a young man, a barista, at a local coffee shop. When I first met him he had quit high school, often spoke about taking his GRE, but never seemed to get around to actually sitting for the exam.
You couldn't help liking him—friendly, full of life, and a knack for having a number of friends.
Last summer after attending a rock concert and making some poor decisions he ended up having a seizure and severe complications. His body simply stopped working and he was kept in a medically induced coma.
The coffee house sold handmade bracelets to help defray some of the medical costs. His friends went down to visit ,his family moved down to be close to him, and his partner didn't say ,"This is too much."
Whenever we went into the coffee house we'd ask, "How's he doing?" Weeks went by and finally some progress. There was no cognitive damage and his organs were coming back to life. When he first came home he couldn't walk and slowly with help he regained strength.
Today we went to the coffee house and there he was in line waiting for an orange drink. I hugged him and said he looked great—a little thin.
"I'm a miracle, " he said. "Everything is fine. I'm written up in the medical journals. I really should have died and I don't know how or why I'm alive."
We talked about what he's doing now. "I'm going back to school full time in the fall." He had gotten his GRE several months before the rock concert.
He spoke about his feeling that there must be some purpose to his complete recovery. "I don't know what it is, but I'll find that purpose."
Not all roads lead straight to a destination, some veer, stop, start, and then move on. The universe has released him to find his own path and I expect that he'll do just that.
Purpose: intent, intention, meaning, design, heart of the matter.
You couldn't help liking him—friendly, full of life, and a knack for having a number of friends.
Last summer after attending a rock concert and making some poor decisions he ended up having a seizure and severe complications. His body simply stopped working and he was kept in a medically induced coma.
The coffee house sold handmade bracelets to help defray some of the medical costs. His friends went down to visit ,his family moved down to be close to him, and his partner didn't say ,"This is too much."
Whenever we went into the coffee house we'd ask, "How's he doing?" Weeks went by and finally some progress. There was no cognitive damage and his organs were coming back to life. When he first came home he couldn't walk and slowly with help he regained strength.
Today we went to the coffee house and there he was in line waiting for an orange drink. I hugged him and said he looked great—a little thin.
"I'm a miracle, " he said. "Everything is fine. I'm written up in the medical journals. I really should have died and I don't know how or why I'm alive."
We talked about what he's doing now. "I'm going back to school full time in the fall." He had gotten his GRE several months before the rock concert.
He spoke about his feeling that there must be some purpose to his complete recovery. "I don't know what it is, but I'll find that purpose."
Not all roads lead straight to a destination, some veer, stop, start, and then move on. The universe has released him to find his own path and I expect that he'll do just that.
Purpose: intent, intention, meaning, design, heart of the matter.
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