A Purpose

To everything, turn turn, there is a season….I’ve been humming this in my head for about two days and I know what’s going on there.   Lately I have been struggling with “purpose”…..my husband and wonderful family has given me the ultimate of wonderful gifts, a time to do just what I want to do…and I am dissatisfied with it…why?  Because just lately I felt I have lacked a purpose…..

What is the purpose of painting a beautiful picture and hanging it on the wall?  It’s an expression of the soul in my humble opinion, but I often, after living the life of a paralegal question the purpose of my “soul”.   In San Pedro, while Emily was getting her deep stone massage, I was sitting at a table gazing out into the misty green blue waters and watching the distant waves and feeling that I was looking at this beautiful scenery and wondered why I had felt so dis-jointed with myself…why when everything seems to be going so well, I seem to have left kidney stones, illness, stress and problems behind me with the despair I had felt over the loss of my folks and Charlie’s Dad….but I still wondered what the heck was bothering me. 

I had a nice long conversation with Joel, a server in the restaurant that I was waiting in and it came to me in bits and pieces….I told him that (and rightfully so) the group of servers were all working together in a happy group and they had the beautiful scene right before them….what a wonderful life!  Watching them in this beautiful setting and wondering what worries they had behind the scenes….it was a passing thought but then it made me wonder at my own sardonic view point….Life can’t be just happy and expressive….People can’t always be happy.  The artist in me knows this to be true, you can’t see white without seeing black and if you look closely at anything that has white or black in them you will see shades of the opposing characters…hmmm.

So I struggle on a daily basis knowing that my past life did not fit me just right, it was a hard life even though, looking at the people and the lifestyle here in Belize, that most Belizeans would have enjoyed having the indoor plumbing, washing machines, microwaves, play stations, and cable they would probably have left that lifestyle shortly after.  My life before was hard though, it had so many people looking for me to help.  I was constantly being told what to do by my clients, by Charlie, by the kids.  They had no idea of how much my life was centered on just doing for them.  So much so that when I moved here and was told I could finally do the things I had always wanted to do I struggled with finding out me…..I was so lost with not being told that I needed to take care of someone else I had no idea how to handle it…

Here life is a struggle….you struggle to push back the jungle and keep the lawn the lawn, you struggle to get things fixed, like the plumbing or the waiting for parts or waiting for the cable to work or waiting for the internet to come back up.  You adjust to having a life where it isn’t always about the things you have or the things you want but the most basic of needs…..

I have been taking care of a little boy and I feel bad for him and his family but know that to try and help them wouldn’t help at all.  In my typical American mindset I believe that people if they want a better lifestyle should be able to work hard and get here.  There are so many forces to contend with in this world that as Americans we believe we are owed a better life just because of birth.  I look at this child and know that he is one of a family of 9, that the family knows no better and the mother keeps giving her husband what he wants because whether or not he is a good provider he is a husband and a husband has control here.  There are not enough men staying in Belize, they leave it because they think the good life is the American way…..

So, she bears 9 children and keeps the husband happy and the husband who actually is trying to make a better life is a fisherman.  The fishermen are told that they need to take the boats out only once a month even though to make ends meet the normal fisherman would go out 4 times a month.  The reasoning is that Belize counts on its tourist market and that most people come to view the sea life and the fishermen were taking that all away…..by fishing?

They live in a two room concrete box.  No indoor plumbing, no TV, no music, one child on top of the other in three small beds and a hammock.  The boys foot was further butchered by the hospital here, thinking they were doing the child a favor cut away all the dead skin thinking in their un knowledgeable way that the dead skin might hold disease instead of cleaning it well and letting it heal.  They have so little.  Yet, when I talk to the little boy he smiles at me and seems very happy.  Very adjusted to dealing with the idea that he can’t walk around for a bit.  So patient that I know as  I clean the wound with the hydrogen peroxide and see it foaming I know that he is in pain….I say to him “Richard, I am so sorry I have to hurt you” and this little 8 year old looks at me and smiles, he says “Don’t worry, Miss Brenda, tomorrow I will be better” and I feel so selfish in my thinking.

I am angry with myself because I don’t understand how to be free and to be creative and to be myself and this little boy puts it all in perspective…..it’s easy to be yourself when you set the bar at just being happy.    You don’t need internet, a deluxe washing machine, cable and lightning fast internet, you just need to be happy with what you have and what you set your goals to achieve.  I have a purpose….