Calling, Calling...Where Are You, My Calling?

A calling, a mission, a purpose...Isn't that what we are all here for?  To make some kind of mark on this world, to show that we were actually here?

I've been searching for my calling for such a long time, now, that I feel like a little girl playing one hell of a long, bad game of Pin The Tail On The Donkey / Break The Piñata...You know, blinded, turned around in so many directions but still standing in the same place, hoping to find that one, perfect, correct spot to place the piece you hold in your hand so the picture looks just right, all the while swinging feverishly for that oh-so-desired treat that will finally reveal itself after some perseverance and strength combine in, again, just the right way.

As a teenager, I remember feeling rather confident of what I wanted from my life.  While it always included a family, my focus was centered on What I Wanted To Be When I Grew Up.  Engineer or Lawyer...Yep, that was all there was for me.

Fast forward nearly 20 years, and you will see that I went the way of an engineer, realized I wanted more from my life and career than only making money for some big company, began a family, lost my only daughter, left my career to support my husband's career, had more children, am having amazing experiences all over the world, and still.don't.know.what.my.calling.is.

It isn't for a lack of searching for said calling.  Since leaving my career six years ago, it feels that is all I have done.  I have ignored my normal aversion to "this is how you do it" guidance and read numerous books on colors and parachutes.  I have explored my inner being.  I have questioned myself.  I have researched options.  I have had plans circling my head, unsure how to make them into anything viable.  I have worked in various capacities which actually did offer a great deal of satisfaction, but have been temporary and I can't figure out how to move my career in that direction.

For so long, I have felt that there is something just below the surface and out of my grasp, something which I am supposed to do, that I will be good at, that will matter.  But, I can't see it.

I'm dazed.  I'm dizzy.  I'm confused.

During one of our recent, often-repeated, ahem, discussions, my husband professed his belief that I am angry.  I quickly replied that, indeed, I am angry.  I am angry that my daughter died.  Some days, I am angry that I left my career.  Some days, I am angry that I have limited professional options.  Some days, I'm angry that I'm not a better mother to the children I do have in my arms.  Some days, I'm angry that I can't see The Answer.

Does that anger present itself everyday?  I don't think so.  I hope not.

I am a realist about life.  My husband calls me a pessimist.  But, my logical, methodical, analytical self simply won't let me entertain options that, after consideration, seem too expensive, too far away, too time-consuming with other obligations, too far-reached considering that I have a family to provide for.

I feel that I have had fleeting glimpses of my calling, but the signs are still just one big word search puzzle.

Conveniently enough, a dear friend from long-ago recently wrote about her exploration of purpose.   She used Steve Pavlina's tool How To Discover Your Life's Purpose In About 20 Minutes and emerged with a very personal, intimate reason for living.  I was intrigued.  This, in turn, led me to stumble upon Tara Sophia Mohr's How To Recognize Your Calling.  Again, intrigued.

I admit that I Want It All.  In light of my flailing direction, am I searching for some perfection which simply doesn't exist?  I can't accept that as true, just yet.