My purpose In life can never be something beyond my control. That would be insanity.
To make people happy,
To save people from hardship,
To be admired by others,
To reach some height of accomplishment…
I do not control these things, though sometimes it seems like I’ve attained them. I’m grateful when I do, and—when I’m thinking clearly—I’m grateful when I don’t.
But whether or not I do is not up to me. It is beyond me.
My purpose in life can only be something either inevitable or completely within my control. (Do those things mean the same thing?)
As much as I’d like it to be my choice, my purpose in life is not up to me. The universe organizes itself perfectly—without my ego’s consent or approval—so that I am always perfectly serving my purpose in life whether I am aware of it or not.
I can argue with reality by pursuing an ego-chosen “purpose,” but I have found that the universe, in all its benevolent kindness, ignores my choice if it is not my actual purpose and will only allow me to live out my actual purpose.
My purpose is the universe’s purpose and the universe will never fail to do exactly what it does.
So I see no point it worrying about it. And a lot of reason to just enjoy the ride.