Recently, I was cleaning out a number of boxes from storage. These boxes had been put away years earlier and after many years in darkness and many miles of travel, storage, and moving, they had finally found their way back into my basement. 

As I began to open up these boxes, I was mixed with many emotions, as I had not seen the contents in far too many years. Inside were things that I once considered my “prize possessions”; gifts from loved ones and books collected throughout my travels. 

I acknowledged that I had long forgotten about what exactly was in these boxes. My emotions churned within me; anxiety, excitement, curiosity, and a bit of fear. Fear of what other emotions these once-cherished memories would bring up in me.

The first box was filled with items from my practice marriage. I was young, naïve, and yet wise about certain things. There were beautiful, delicate china cups and saucers; the memory of playing house and trying to find my way in the world as a married woman. There were souvenirs from various places I had traveled, precious keepsakes from my mom and dad.

In the second box I opened, I found books. Books and journals from my early teens up until my early thirties. The selection spanned almost two decades. I started going through the box and found many old journals, mostly half-finished, scrawled with the hopes and dreams and wishes of a much younger me.

In three separate journals, I found written within the pages my hope for the future. Almost word for word, I found within each of the three journals, my personal mission statement.

“My mission in life is to motivate and inspire others, through my passion for teaching and training, to help others find their own life purpose, and in doing so, that we may all make our lives and the world a better place.”

Keep in mind that these journals were from my early teens all the way to my early thirties.  The feeling after reading these similar words was, to say the least, a bit spooky, even for me.

I had always known from a very young age that I loved to teach. I remember my portable chalkboard that I would set up in my bedroom, the living room, or the backyard. I would pile all of my stuffed animals together and set them up, as if in a classroom. I would go on for hours, teaching them the alphabet, numbers, and colors.

As I got older, I continued this tradition, teaching more and more with every age I gained. Then once in middle school, I would help my actual classmates and tutor after school. In my early twenties, I volunteered to teach basic literacy at the library to adults who wanted to learn how to read and write. I even went on to develop my career as a corporate trainer for a large company.

I loved it. I loved my job. I loved the difference I was making in the world. And I was really good at it. I was living my dream life. 

Then, as they say, life happened. My priorities had to shift very quickly. 

I moved across the country, back to my home city, and with the love and support of my family and friends, I had to find a new job. I was no longer able to define myself by what I did for a living. My career was no longer my touchpoint, my North Star, my guidepost. While my then-spouse was able to easily reconnect with his old friends and career path, I found it much harder. I experimented with a number of jobs – none of which brought me the same level of joy or passion as my previous career did.

I really had nothing to complain about. I was accomplished and easily found work. I was a star employee, always on time, reliable, hard-working, and diligent. I made friends with my coworkers and fit into company cultures. I had a steady paycheque, a benefits package, and often a bonus plan.

I had it all.

I had what others wished for.

And yet, I was miserable inside.

I felt depressed, alone, and unworthy. I knew that I was meant for more, but had no idea what that meant any longer. I felt stuck like I was going through the motions. All of the nagging doubting thoughts came flooding into my mind; who do I think I am to want more? And yet, at a soul level, I knew I was given a unique spark, a unique flame that burned deep inside. This time for me became my own personal dark night of the soul.

And when you are at the bottom, it dawned on me that there is nowhere else to look but up. So, I did what I knew best in my own heart; I prayed.

And not in the cozy “Are you there God, it’s me Margaret” kind of praying. This was full-on “ugly crying on the bathroom floor, why hast thou forsaken me” kind of praying. Raising my fists in anger and frustration and overwhelm and desperation.

And after those emotions had subsided, there was an immense and palpable calm that came over me. I slept better that night than I had for, what felt like, years.

And then I began living my life again.

I started a new journal (one of the ones that were in the box). And I began writing from my heart. I wrote about my dream and my hopes and my fears. I began talking with my higher self, learning about what values were most important to me. And once again, I came back to my personal mission statement.

I loved teaching people things; anything that made them feel good about themselves or promoted positivity. I loved inspiring people and motivating them to be their best selves.

And I certainly couldn’t expect to motivate and inspire others when I myself wasn’t doing the deep inner work. So I once again started to read and study personal development and spirituality. I read about enlightenment and mediation. I learned about crystals and essential oils. I read Dr. Wayne Dyer and Louise Hay and Gabrielle Bernstein and Rebecca Campbell. I joined Facebook groups, took classes, and attended workshops.

I struggled with many inner demons and limiting beliefs. There were many times I felt like an imposter or a fraud or unworthy. But I kept pushing through, always going back to my North Star, my personal mission statement.

And in the fall of 2019, after MANY failed attempts, I finally pressed “GO” on my life’s work. I was officially out there in the world, offering my services in the form of a Life Purpose Coach. I was finally, and officially, back on my life’s path once again.

After reading over those three journals that I found recently, the words within them began to niggle at my spirit. How is it that from the age of 12 years old, I have been so blessed to know what my purpose on earth is? Many people go their entire lives without knowing what the point of life is. Without knowing the unique gifts that they bring into this world.

And while I have always had an inner knowing, walking the path has not been easy. I have forgotten, chose to ignore, or even abandoned my purpose. But it has always been there, underfoot, like a secret path of symbols in the forest to bring you safely through.

It has taken me hours, days, and years of learning, of looking inward, of searching and seeking within myself. To determine what is most important to me, what I value, what I deserve. I have had to shift priorities along the way, set new goals, and have bigger and bolder aspirations.

It has all been worth it.

Even when I stumble and fall, even when I am incredibly uncomfortable doing something new, even when I miss the mark and fall short of my goals – I am still taking a step forward to living my best life.

I know that the same spark lives within you. I know that you are capable of amazing things. I know that your spirit is more than your body, the car you drive, or the job you have. Because there is the entire Universe of potential within you.

And I am here to support you and create a community with you.

And I proudly state: My mission in life is to motivate and inspire others, through my passion for teaching and training, to help others find their own life purpose, and in doing so, that we may all make our lives and the world a better place.

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