Today’s post is a poem that accidentally flowed out as I was journaling on the arc of my story so far through 100 Liminal Days. There is something profoundly shifting in my thinking and, surprisingly, it is quite soothing to recognize my mistakes and even ignorance.

This poem I call “I Am The One,” is about recognizing that what is even greater than grasping for truth and attempting to fulfill our purpose is surrendering to our dharma, and acknowledging that the only thing we can actually anchor ourselves to is the present moment. It’s about noticing that we are not missing a single piece of ourselves we call purpose, but instead we are the single piece returning to the whole.

We may start our journey with an immature desire to hold the truth – to discover and fulfill our unique purpose. And actually, even though this particular path is mostly futile, we end up right where we are meant to be anyway. This reality – even with the misunderstandings and missteps along the way – is beautifully captivating me as I continue to surrender another layer.

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100 Liminal Days is an experimental project of embracing my current transitional season after exiting my business by sharing an honest, real-time account of my self-initiation experience in daily posts. I’m using The Artist’s Way as a guiding tool, and sending shorter weekly recaps only via my newsletter. Visit Day 1/100 to learn more and sign up to get the weekly recaps delivered to your inbox.

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I Am The One

I started on a path with a desire to hold the truth,

To control the outcome because I believed it was mine to choose.

Then, in what I perceived as maturity unfolding within me,

I changed my language to admit:

I must let go of the outcome and see the journey as the gift!

But as I continue to give myself to new levels of surrender,

I see that even that was not the secret whispering in my ear,

Calling me into the wild.

It is not the choice or the journey that materializes in my hand,

Giving me something to hold onto,

Anchoring my soul.

In fact, it hasn’t been about holding truth at all.

All along, it hasn’t been about anchoring to anything either –

Outside of this present moment.

And it’s clear now that even the journey has hardly been mine to choose!

Further, my life’s work is not even about the work!

It is about observing and understanding what I see.

It is about this knowing.

A knowing difficult to put into words, but deeply comforting

Like a wave of peace washing over me.

Like a new love engulfing my mind, body, and soul,

I ask myself with a smile, “Where have you been all my life?”

This knowing is recognition of myself,

Seeing not just who I am becoming,

But who I have always meant to be.

Who I have always been.

Authenticity becomes my aspiration,

To remember who I am.

The very word, “authenticity,” becomes rich with new meaning.

Living authentically might be simply said as “being true to oneself,”

But this doesn’t capture all of authenticity’s glimmering essence.

There’s something else about authenticity that resembles… connection.

A return to the whole.

Here I’ve been thinking the singular missing piece of my life I called purpose

Was something for me to discover and bring into the fold once again,

Like the shepherd risking life and limb to rescue the precious lost lamb.

When actually I am the one, not the ninety-nine.

I am the one reconnecting to the whole.

For all my life that I can remember,

I have been intent on understanding and fulfilling my purpose.

This word, “fulfilling” –

As if purpose is some special life-giving liquid

Dripping, flowing, or crashing into a one-of-a-kind cup with my name etched in the side!

Suddenly, I see this thinking as immature and ignorant.

I’ve spent so much of my life in a pursuit to fill a cup

With a concoction precisely formulated and uniquely mine.

The odds of achieving this are astronomically not in my favor.

Yet even still, this pursuit of my purpose has led me here,

To this present moment of knowing,

This place in time where I quiet the mind

And listen for the whisper.

It’s in this repeating present moment

I give myself completely to my dharma.

A much better word than purpose, by the way.

Purpose speaks to output.

Dharma speaks to destiny.

Within my dharma, I do not hold the ultimate truth.

I do not control the outcome.

And it is not about the fragile journey either.

Fate could interrupt my metamorphosis,

Robbing me of my purpose,

But never of my dharma.

I started on a path with a desire to hold the truth.

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