As a spiritual/health/life coach, I see that one of the main issues plaguing people today is a confusion around purpose. Even those who seem to know what they are doing – 9-5 job, weekly schedule, etc. – are often the most lost. Inside, there is a sort of flailing about, lost in the wind, not sure where to aim their compass.
This leads to a lot of suffering, because something has to keep us here.
If you believe, as I do, that you came here with a plan, a mission, a job and a desire to fulfill that job on this earth, then you can imagine why forgetting that mission would lead to a lot of sorrow. This world, even with all its pleasures, is not a fun place to be unless we have a sense of purpose and meaning driving every day of our lives. It’s actually a world saturated with suffering right now, and I don’t believe we came here for kicks. We came here to help.
When we are in the throes of our addiction, I believe we have forgotten what we came here to do, and we are substituting the objects of our addiction for the real deal.
The real deal is living a life full of meaning. Doing what we came here to do. And, you know, I have seen all sorts of people, in all walks of life, living their purpose. Caring for the elderly, or babies, or animals. Organizing farmers’ markets, starting animal rescues, you name it. It doesn’t have to be grandiose.
But for an addicted/addictable brain, I find it often is grandiose. At least, more grandiose than you might imagine.
Because, evolutionarily speaking (I just learned this from Susan Peirce Thompson, and she corroborates a feeling I have had for a long time. Unfortunately, I do not have a reference, as this came from a talk, and not directly from a text), the addictable brain is a smart brain. It’s a brain that recognizes and responds to signs and cues, such as when the rain was coming, or that there was a predator on its way.
A sensitive brain.
This kind of brain also, unfortunately, is extremely sensitive to food cues, making it very vulnerable to the a culture of addictive, processed food widely available at every turn.
Think about it, just for a moment. It makes sense that underlying this highly addictable tendency, is a thread of pure genius, does it not?
Not everyone has an addictable brain. In fact, according to present research, only one third of humans has the kind of highly addictable brain we are talking about here. That makes it less than a common phenomenon, and here’s the important thing:
This world needs your smart brain.
More than ever. You can use it to help so many of the issues really eating away at our world right now.
Environment. Animal rights. Human rights. Foreign affairs and relations. Clean air, water, healthcare, you name it. Whatever you are passionate about, YOU can help, but only if you heal your brain from addiction, and get out there and live the life you were meant to live.
The beautiful thing is, once you give yourself to a cause, you will naturally start to want to partake in your addiction less. It may not (and probably won’t) happen overnight, and it may take additional effort and help down the road, but you will have taken the major step toward healing what I believe to be the core of the issue: one of purpose. Once you start to see your energy and presence making a real impact on this world, you’ll be getting the soul food you really need, want, and have been hungry for, and life will move you toward the full removal of your addiction.
Now, if you don’t know your purpose (or don’t remember :)) where to begin? My favorite saying is, “ask and it is given.” Begin by asking. Ask the universe, Mother Earth herself, ask your higher self, ask God, if you have a relationship with her/him/it. Ask and it is given; this, my friends, is one thing that I can testify, really works. You may have to wait a while. You may have to follow some clues, a trail of breadcrumbs. Out of the ordinary things may start happening to you. These are good. These synchronicities are the universe answering your question, and not always in a logical way.
Just remember, the message in a bottle always eventually hits a shore. Your question, once asked, is never lost.