Perturbed by Purpose
I came across an Instagram reel this week of a woman named Naya James saying that she believes we cause 99% of our own suffering by chasing after things we may not truly want.
Her examples included things like money and recognition. Many people in the comments were giving her a hard time but I think that she may have been on to something.
A couple of weeks ago I was invited to attend the Sowers Summit, a Christian women's conference put on in NYC by Pricelis Dominguez. The speakers explored some hard-hitting topics for me: obedience to God, grief and disappointment, trusting God, etc. After the night service on the second night, there was an altar call that I chose not to respond to. (I do not recall if it was for anything specific or if it was just to receive prayer.) As I remained sitting in my seat the song King of My Heart by Bethel Music began to play.
Click the picture for more information about the Summit and how to get tickets for next year!
Additional context as to why this song is triggering from my upcoming memoir:
“I think the worst part of being depressed for me was feeling like God had abandoned me in the midst of it. I’d been working as a nanny after I left Chick-Fil-A and when I lost that job because the child entered daycare in September 2016, my first thought was to kill myself. I was in the midst of a Major Depressive Episode™ and I started putting my plan into action when I stopped and started singing “King of My Heart”, by Bethel Music. Singing turned to screaming as rage burned in my heart for a God that I felt was out to get me. I started jumping on my mom’s bed to prevent myself from destroying everything in my path— something I had done before in extreme anger. I kept shouting “YOU ARE GOOD” at the top of my lungs even though I didn’t believe it at all. I kept on yelling because I knew it was true and Truth didn’t depend on how I felt, or what I didn't believe. It was a molecule of hope that I clung to. I held on as long as I could.”
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That song being played in particular was hilarious (not hilarious ha-ha, hilarious I’mma kill myself tonight God because you think you got jokes!) and I began to angry-cry. I didn’t sing along that He is good. I couldn’t sing along that He’s never gonna let me down because He already has and continues to do so. The angry cry gave way to a rage sob as another Bethel Music song, Goodness of God, began to play. If His goodness has been running after me my whole life, how the fuck have I been faster than it? How hasn’t it caught me yet?
In my distress, God sent a woman who I had never met before to come pray for me. She prayed for me by name (remember, I’d never met her before!) and began to speak to some central themes of my life, but especially of the last 6 months. Another woman followed behind her to pray for me as well. A central theme in both prayers was that I would know my life has purpose.
These are just the tears that fell. If you think my book bag looks wet, you should have felt my mask. Filled with snot!
I thought it was an unnecessary prayer because yes, of course, my life has purpose! (insert eyeroll) It’s one of those things that’s a given, like: Jesus loves me! But no matter how much you know a fact in your head, believing it in your heart is a different story. What I have realized as I processed in the days since, is that I do, in fact, feel like my life lacks purpose —at least at this present moment. I think the source of my current and recurring frustrations is the fact that every dream I felt would add meaning to my life, continues to be thwarted.
A while back I saw this tweet saying to make a timeline of your life and the events that happened to you. I think the point was to reveal that things in your life aren’t as bad as we make them out to be? I’m not sure. I made one for just my twenties and so far it’s been a wild ride.
21 year old Kiana not realizing just how badly her 20s would suck.
One thing I noticed when taking stock of my life is that all these canon events, the dreams that have either been delayed or denied, feel so catastrophic to me because I feel like they are things that, if allowed to happen, would change my life as I know it.
My engagement would lead to marriage and change my life.
Going to NYU would land me a great job and change my life.
I’d start my business, write a book and get instant success which would change my life.
Most recently, this man who literally came into my life under some pretty extraordinary circumstances would be The One™. He’d help me finish college and we’d get married and have a couple kids, all of which would change my life.
None of these things has worked out that way. Obviously. What I hadn’t realized until recently is that all of those dreams deferred are things I believe will give greater meaning to my life. I don’t necessarily think any of these happening will stop the suicidal thoughts from finding me again, but it would give me a stronger, more compelling reason to fight against them. The hope that I will one day have these things if I live long enough to make them happen is wearing razor-thin.
Captured by Nicole W.
To that end, I agree with what Naya said. So much of my mental suffering is caused by the fact that these things I desire seem unattainable. Perhaps none of these things are things I would even want if it weren’t for society’s definition of success dictating the measuring stick of my life’s meaning. If I simply had no desires at all I’d most likely just be chilling. If I could find joy and meaning in simply existing perhaps some of this torment would leave. Maybe when things don’t work out as I’d imagined them to, it wouldn’t feel catastrophic. My ambition will be the death of me.
S/O to Kalia Blake for editing
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