Turning Lead Into Gold

The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo

My friend Chris gave me quite a gift, the book The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo. It’s got me thinking about my life purpose, and for all the longing I have to know it, just how ardently I try to avoid doing so for the fear of what I’d have to give up to lay it all down on the line to actually go for it.

The Alchemist reminded me of what I already know… that each of us already knows enough to get started (so long as we are willing to act on that), and that most will not because it isn’t possible to know the whole magilla up front. So we wistfully say, “I just wish I knew my purpose so I could do it and end this ceaseless longing in my heart” rather than telling ourselves the truth by saying, “I have a feeling to just try this, which would give me unequivocal feedback as to whether that is the right direction, but until I am certain that moving in that direction will put me in a situation that is at least as good as the mediocre but tenable one I’m in, I’m not going to do it.”

(Then, there are the minority who are constantly striking off in some direction, but who refuse the unequivocal feedback they receive from the universe, thus giving them the freedom to keep striking off whereever they like, believing they are living their purpose but for all the intentions and the striking it really doesn’t amount to much at all.)

As you can tell, Chris’ recommendation has kicked off within me a “taking stock” of sorts. He gave me quite a gift. I’ve recommended the book to several people, including Michelle and Scott, and the timing, for them, was perfect, too.

In the past when I’ve “taken stock”, it has been primarily about my work. This time, its more broad based. My wife and I have moved to 11 acres in the country. She’s given up her very successful career as a psychologist. We’ve found out the house on the property has mold. It’s a 20 year old manufactured home we’d hoped to live in for 3-5 years until we saved enough to pay cash for a eco-savvy house. Now waiting isn’t an option: building a house is a priority as we are living in a rented 31 foot travel trailer I affectionately call Plan B.

The whole scenario has been very stressful. I was talking to my parents about that, and my Mom said to me, “Please take good care of your self.” That struck me as so odd. What I realized is that my old working definition of “taking care of my self” isn’t relevant any longer.

“Taking care of my self” used to primarily mean to me getting to the gym, eating right, taking nutritional supplements, getting enough sleep, spending time each week outdoors, meditating/praying, etc. And I am not saying those things aren’t important. But for me, I am clear that you can do all those things and not take good care of your self.

“Taking care of my self” now means to me to work with my inner state of being so that the inner state is not harming my body. Sure, all those things I listed above (and more) can temporarily change the inner state while I am doing them. Perhaps doing all those things could even have some form of residual effect. But the feeling I am getting is that for me–for Otis–taking care of the self means seating the soul in the body, and then maintaining an inner state that enables the soul to do its work through the body.

I no longer equivacate “doing” all those things as taking good care of myself. Even if I cannot do all (or some) of those things, I can work with my inner state of being directly and, and, that is more important than doing all the other things which take time and it becomes easy to think that just doing them is to take care of the self. I think that is off the mark.

The net? It has dawned on me that doing is not tantamount to taking care of. If my inner state of being is out of synch with my soul’s work and with what is beneficial to my body, I can do all the external things in the world I want to do, and they won’t mean that much.

So there you have it. Right now, I’m dialed in on working with where I am at with living my life purpose and what it means to “take care of my self.” No answers. But a feeling. And I am remembering one of my favorite songs of all time.

“Even my best friends, even my best friends, they don’t know.

That my job is turning lead, into gold.

And I’m search for, I’m searching for–

The Philosopher’s Stone.”

Van Morrison, The Philosopher’s Stone