• Marlowe Emerson

This is what you came here for.

Updated: Aug 11

We don't always live with a sense of purpose. Sometimes our only thought at the beginning of the day is how to get to the end of it. But I think that is because our notion of purpose is too narrow. We associate it with some long term goal that is tied to our sense of identity. I have always felt that "Purpose" is something beyond our comprehension, because we simply can't know the ways in which our existence reverberates throughout eternity. Each moment that you live is actually your purpose - living each day in your body, aware that you are standing on a planet, heart pumping, eyes blinking, not sure how you got here or how long you will be allowed to stay. These are the moments we connect with the truth of being alive. They are they are what Thoreau meant when he said, "Only that day dawns to which we are awake."

Knowing that you are alive is not always the most comforting thing. It means acknowledging the absurdity of it all, the uncertainty, the mystery of being. It means you are conscious of every sensation, emotion, and thought. You may even feel a sudden compassion for the "finite you," while hoping against a glaring lack of evidence that there is also an "infinite you." (Ah yes, that whole conundrum.) We feel bound to this earth and yet not of it. Nature holds our bodies but rejects our minds. So what else can we really do with this time but try to be here for ALL of it, from the most intense joy to the most gut-wrenching heartbreak? When living itself becomes its own purpose, we can accept (and even be grateful for) both the wrathful sea and the comforting shore...

Toes sink in the cold wet sand.

Pink glow of dawn makes new the land.

Infinite roars the great expanse

Of sea and spirit in their dance.

White barrels crack upon the shore.

This is what you came here for.

Wind breathes softly on the skin,

A pressure light, a stir within,

A call from kindred breath in mouth,

Like rivers beckon blood flow south.

Heart molten, bound to earth’s sweet core.

This is what you came here for.

Beauty pierces common eyes

And eye of storm makes us deny

That what we see is but false hope,

For rage lives ever near the slope

Of fairest breast and smoothest pore.

This is what you came here for.

- M.E.

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