One of these days, I’m going to grow up, and figure out who I’m suppose to be.  At least, that’s the thought that has filled my mind since I was… three.  My mind settled upon many different life duties during my elementary years.  From police officer to missionary to preacher to lawyer, I always knew I was going to be doing something—and that something would be spectacular.  It would be exactly what I always wanted.  What I was meant to do.

You should see the me of fantasies that stands up before a courtroom, and dazzles the jury and judge so much that the trial is held up for a good two hours because everyone within the sound of my voice is entranced and can’t help do anything but sit, stare, and admire.

One of these days, I’ll be a grown-up.  And I will get to use grown-up words like:

I am... ____.  The statement that reverberates across America.  We identify ourselves by what we do.  Rather, we identify other people by what they do (we are often much kinder to ourselves.)  But no, this post really isn’t a tirade against stereotyping people by career or profession.  It’s about the root of the statement “I am a plumber” or “I am a banker”. 

Each of us has the deepest of desires to create.  To reach out and affect matter in a way we deem positive.  We all—every one of us—longs to make something happen.  Even though that might sound too outlandish to belief right off the bat, let’s think about it.  Imagine the laziest person you know.  I’m serious, think of somebody.  If it’s easier, think of the biggest imaginary, stereotypically lazy figure you can conjure up, and notice this:  You’re old pot smoking roommate did what while he was high?  He hypothesized, and philosophized—made up worlds, and changed worlds.  Your fat cousin who you think does absolutely nothing but play video games may not… but what does he like about the video games?  Where else could he construct an entire world all by himself, or defeat a vast alien fleet?

And your not even that kid who’s always stuck in front of the playstation.  You’re normal.

Normal in that you actually do take showers.  And might even brush your teeth.

You are also normal because you long to create.  Don’t worry about it too much though; it’s how you were made.

When I was in high school, but not yet really old enough to drive or keep a job, I remember sitting at home craving constructive activities to engage in.  You should have seen my room.  I was, perhaps, the most organized fourteen-year old in the world.  If you saw my room, you probably wouldn’t agree, but trust me, I had been through every article in it, and put it in its place.  I remember finding some old boxes of filing folders my parents had left lying around.  They were perfect.  And pretty soon, I had organized as much paperwork as a fourteen year old has to organize. 

It’s why little kids dream of the day when they, too, will get bills in the mail.  Big people get to do things.

So, eventually, I got my drivers license, and a job at a bookstore.  I became SGA president and yearbook editor.  I starred in a school play.  And, all of a sudden, I was doing things.  But not the thing, of course.  That was what one does when he/she grows up. 

But if the old adage is true, and if the best people are children at heart—if the one’s who never really grow up are the one’s who find the truest happiness—then how do they ever get anything accomplished?  Mustn’t one be a grown up to have a real job? 

The answer to this question has been slowly sinking into my head for a while… no.  There is no one divine task each of us are to accomplish.  And while yes, we are being prepared to accomplish great feats in our future, the moment we are in right now is just as important.

Our work is now.  Right here.  Just as you are reading this page, you are living perhaps the greatest moment of your life.  Because every moment, as we experience them, are the greatest.  It is in the moment that we have the greatest connection to eternity, and it is in this moment that you will perform your task. 

Seize the moment.  But don’t just seize it… live it.  Breathe it.  Now is the time not just to brush these words off as a motivational speech, but to realize that whatever it is you think you are building towards is a fantasy.  It is a fiction.  This moment is what is real.  This moment is where you must act.  Where you must love.  Where you must thrive and find joy.  If you cannot do it now, what will change about tomorrow?

You are here. 

 

You are here for a reason.

And your heart is beating.

Your heart is beating, and calling you to act.

It is the living drum that ticks away with every second of your life, pushing energy through your veins, and asking you to see

That you can create a masterpiece.

The grand masterpiece is the final project you will only be able to view from eternity. 

The personal masterpiece… the one that is so crucial… is the brushstroke you will lie right… now.

Did you see it?  You just painted on your canvas. 

I hope it is pretty.

If it isn’t, you might want to do better next time.  But we won’t get it right unless we stop.

And look.

breathe in the present.  breathe in the tranquility of the moment

And concentrate and engage

In… this…. one… brushstroke.