Sunday Meditation: Gift Giving

“The meaning of life is to find your gift.

               The purpose of life is to give it away.”

                                                       

David Viscott

Wouldn’t it be easier if our lives were more defined for us? If life came with specific directions on who we are supposed to be and what we are supposed to do? Easier, yes. Beautiful? Maybe not.

As I travel farther along my path, I find myself associating struggle with beauty more and more. There is something indescribably beautiful in the process of people messing up, struggling, falling, discovering, and ultimately rising.

It is through the struggle that we make our own discoveries and find meaning in our experience. When we find our talents and gifts, it often translates into our passion. That warm glow inside of us that lights the path and gives us purpose. That thing we would gladly do for free because it makes us feel inspired.

It would be simple if our talents and gifts were handed to us in a tidily wrapped package. “Here, you are Collette. Here is your gift of words. Use them like only you can.” But life is rarely simple.

Talents often lie dormant and only show themselves once our desire for self-expression awakes. Talents are subject to criticism, neglect, doubt and starvation. They do not insist we use them; in fact many talents will die locked away inside those who never choose to nurture and offer them to the world.

I always excelled in writing and language arts in school. My desire to be a writer really took hold in college, where I received some meaningful encouragement from my professors.

But just as this beautiful potential emerged, life came along and squashed it. Or maybe I let life squash it. I listened to my fears and lost my faith. I began suppressing my creative side with a bottle instead of nurturing it with a pen.

I became a wife, and a mom, and dreams of writing settled to the bottom of my soul, like sediment in a wineglass. Problems began to stack up and my answer was to turn away and drink through them instead of leaning in to self-discovery and solutions.

I put writing on a shelf in the back of my mind and there it stayed, forgotten; growing dusty and stagnant with disuse.

Then one day, I came back to myself. I stopped drinking and started trying to build a foundation for a life I didn’t want to escape from. I remembered that old composition book I kept in the bottom drawer of my bedside table. And I discovered, I had something to say.

So instead of receiving a neatly wrapped box with pre-packaged words inside, I had to set out on a journey, fight like hell, and win my self back. It was only then that I realized that my mess was my message. And that I needed to share.

I was born with a gift, but I had to go through years of fighting with and against myself to discover my passion. To share my experiences through writing, and in that process, connect to and encourage others on their journeys.

I am grateful that I didn’t waste my talent. That I decided to pick up the pen again, and throw the bottle away. My words would have been meaningless, locked inside my head on a shelf in the back of my mind. Instead, I’ve chosen to give them away, to use them, to share with and encourage anyone who reads them.

A gift is only a gift if you give it away. And now that I’ve found my gift, my purpose is to give away my message of hope. The message that says, there is beauty in the struggle and it’s never too late to come back to yourself. That each day is a new beginning, a new opportunity to let go and let God do the heavy lifting so that you can feel light again. I believe in this message as much as I believe the sun will rise again tomorrow; and my purpose is to share it with you.