Facing Your Fears

I have spent a fair amount of time trying to figure out what my purpose in life is. I know that is kind of a cliche statement. Doing a Google search for the phrase "discover your life purpose," I found there were 56,400,000 results.

To give a little perspective, Google reports that there are 40,000 searches per second or 3.5 billion searches per day. At a rate of 40,000 searches per second, it would take 23.5 minutes for those Google searches for the term "discover your life purpose."

Within the past week, there are 94 pages of Google results for articles with the phrase "life purpose" in the title. You can find articles on sites from Success Magazine, Under 30 CEO, Youtube videos, Facebook groups and articles by others like me who are simply interested in the subject. All within the past week.

In another view, Amazon lists 199,864 books on the subject of life purpose. On the much more general term "self-help," Amazon lists 397,671 books. In other words, based on the search alone half of the self-help books on Amazon deal with your life purpose.

Clearly, a lot of people are searching--and writing--about life purpose.

Yet, most of the people I talk to struggle mightily to express what their life purpose is. To be honest, most people I ask don't have any idea what their life purpose is let alone being able to verbalize what it is.

As I've said elsewhere a lot of us can talk about life and purpose in a general sense. Most of us would agree that life is about being happy, about doing good, about helping others, etc. As Stephen Covey put it, "to learn, to love, to leave a legacy."

Yet, you start digging any depth below these generalities and you get a lot of bewildered looks.

My Purpose

I have spent much of the past two years trying to discover and articulate what my purpose is. I think I have distilled my purpose down to the point where I know that it is about helping others live their lives more abundantly. For me, that is what life is really about in general.

Given the fact that so few people can articulate their own life purpose, I have to wonder if all those articles and books that have been written provide any clarity for those seeking it.

What I am really concerned about, and have been stymied by, is much more personal for me. Do I have anything unique or insightful to share about living life more abundantly. With all the competition and resources that are out there already, do I stand a chance of being able make a difference.

To be honest, I am a bit overwhelmed at the prospect of helping others recognize their purpose and to be empowered to pursue it. If I, who has spent the time to figure out my purpose and how to share it, get stymied by the prospect of the task, how can I help others live life more abundantly.

I have as Joseph Campbell alludes to been afraid to enter the cave where my treasure lies because I am afraid of what else I may find in there. Am I up to the task?

Do I dare enter the cave?

Completing a post on my quotes website about taking chances, I came across many motivational sayings. Of those, I find a quote by Jack Canfield appropriate, "Don’t worry about failures, worry about the chances you miss when you don’t even try."

With that in mind, I am reminded of the parable about a man who was walking along a beach after a storm. On the beach, were thousands of starfish. The young man scurried about the beach throwing starfish back into the ocean. Another man approached him asked what the young man was doing.

The young man replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!"

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, "It made a difference for that one.”

I may not be able to make all the difference that the world needs, but perhaps I can make a difference to one here and one there. If nothing else, I can at least try.

Adventures on the Oregon Trail

The struggles we experienced on our return from Salt Lake City to our home in Tacoma, reminded me of those who traveled the Oregon Trail some 150 years ago.

Our struggles weren't as significant or as dramatic as what the early pioneers faced, but there were significant parallels.

Cholera—the primary illness encountered by the pioneers on the Oregon Trail—was constricted from contaminated food or water. It filled the intestines with excess water, leading to diarrhea, dehydration and death.

Admittedly, the stomach flu is not cholera and the morbidity rates are much, much better nowadays. Still, it was a daunting consideration to leave Salt Lake for a nearly 900 mile drive back home. If we were to drive straight through, it would take 12 hours of driving.

The Oregon Trail stretched some nearly 2,000 miles from the "jumping off point" in Independence, Missouri to the Willamette Valley. Our trip from Salt Lake was about half that distance. In the days of the Oregon Trail, the trip would take between 4-1/2 to 5 months with an average daily distance of 15 miles.

Disease

In those days, pioneers encountered diseases such as cholera, diphtheria, dysentery, measles and typhoid fever. All of which were nasty and life threatening diseases for which there were few good treatments. Cholera was treated mostly with laudunum, now understood to be a pure form of opium—which must have had its own effects upon the body and mind.

Even today, cholera remains a pandemic in many parts of the world with recent outbreaks in Mexico, Haiti, Pakistan and Zimbabwe. The best treatment is a familiar regimen of fluids, electrolytes and antibiotics. (I can't tell you how much Gatorade and Powerade we consumed during our bout with the flu but it was a big part of our daily intake.)

Other than dysentery, these diseases have been nearly wiped out in the developed Western world. Dysentery remains a threat as there is no vaccine and recent strains are more resistant to antibiotics.

While we were fighting the flu, none of us were too concerned about the history or prevalence of the disease. I spent the day in bed only gathering up enough energy to take a warm bath (which would have been a luxury in pioneer days). My wife had to help me back to bed. She didn't have it any better when she got sick—passing out in the restroom.

The mortality rate on the Oregon Trail was high. Fortunately, we don't worry about that as much today. With the perspective of traveling that distance being sick a good portion of the way, gives me a lot of empathy and appreciation for the sacrifices of the early pioneers.

Equipment Failure

Wagons, horses, mules and oxen often presented problems on the trail. Wagons would break down. Animals would get sick, injured or too worn out to continue. Naturally, this made it difficult to continue. With belongings taking up the space in the wagons, most of the pioneers traveled the distance on foot. When things broke down, it became a daunting task to continue on the trail.

Even today, traveling through Eastern Oregon, particularly, there are long stretches of road between towns.

There would have been few places to restock on the trail then. It would come down to help from other members of the traveling party.

Having experienced mechanical difficulty on that long drive can be daunting. This time we were close to auto parts stores and gas stations when we had vehicle troubles. But, our nerves were a bit frayed when we realized that the wheel on our van was loose and we were missing a lug nut. We were in the middle of rural Idaho when this occurred. The nearest auto parts store was a good ten miles away. Normally, this wouldn't have been much of a concern, but given the state of the van, the late hour of the day, and trouble it would have caused if the van had completely broken down, we felt fortunate when we pulled into the store's parking lot.

Again in the pioneer days, it would not have been so easy. There are many stories of wagons breaking down. Broken or loose axles and wheels would at best slow the party down considerably.

It isn't much fun to deal with unreliable transportation.

Mountains Between

There is a lot of open road between Salt Lake City and Tacoma. This is especially noticeable in Eastern Oregon where there are long stretches of road with little to no sign of humanity. Recently, I have begun to appreciate this part of the country more than I had.

Stopping at a rest area shortly after passing into Oregon on I-84 there is an interpretative center that speaks of the surrounding Burnt River Valley. The name speaks of how when the pioneers were traveling through the Native Americans would set fire to the valley floor. By the time the pioneers had gotten to this point in their journey, they had already traversed some three quarters of the way to their destination. They must have been tired and worn out.

There were only a few hundred miles before they reached the terminus in Oregon City.

Yet, between them and their destination is a significant mountain range that rises up hundreds of feet to form steep canyon walls. At this point many intrepid pioneers were ready to give up. Getting their wagons over these mountains must have been a real challenge.

They pressed on, though. Ahead of them past these mountains was what some were calling the Garden of the World. They had left much of everything they had behind. They had traveled hundreds of miles, and they had probably seen a fair share of struggle and misfortune. They weren't about to stop before they reached their destination.

Weather

The weather forecast for our trip called for an inch of snow on the road. We traveled most of the way seeing only patches of snow on the ground on either side of the road but nothing on the road itself.

Shortly beyond the Burnt River Valley, though we began to have some snowfall. It wasn't significant but the clouds and mist hung low enough that visibility dropped to about 500 feet. For part of the drive at this point, I could see little more than the tail lights of the car ahead. Traffic slowed down considerably and we held our breath as we drove around precipitous mountain curves.

Eventually, the clouds lifted as we descended to the valley around Pendleton. At this point, the journey evens out and is down to about two hundred miles to Oregon City.

I'm sure many of the pioneers breathed a sigh of relief, as we did, when they were safely down on the valley floor. The final leg of the journey lay ahead. For us we were down to another four hours of driving.

But we knew that we would make it. Illness, problems with the van, and weather issues were largely behind us. All we had before us was to be safe while we battled tiredness. Within a few hours we were safely tucked in our own beds.

Our journey, even with the challenges we encountered, was nothing compared to the journey along the Oregon Trail that the early pioneers completed. However, we had a greater appreciation for the journey they had traveled because we had our own obstacles and challenges along the way.

A Long Road Home

For Thanksgiving this year, my family and I traveled to Salt Lake City to spend time with friends and family. With something like 48 nephews and nieces on my wife's side, we enjoy a large family gathering when we go there. Only part of the family was there, but it was big enough to have a good group of family.

Getting to Salt Lake for Thanksgiving was pretty uneventful. The only thing of note being that my wife and I had to trade driving back and forth for a couple hours as we headed for Pendleton, Oregon—a distance of about 300 miles. As we had left on a school day, we didn't get on the road until after 5 pm. The last half of the trip was pretty tiring, but we finally pulled into our hotel around midnight.

Thanksgiving was an enjoyable time. Everybody pulled together to provide the traditional feast of turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce (my favorite, really!), and a half dozen pies. It was nice spending a fairly relaxed afternoon and evening with family. Catching up and enjoying each other's company.

We were going to take it easy on Friday and Saturday. We spent Friday evening with other family members in Salt Lake and saw all the lights up around Temple Square.

Our intention was to leave Salt Lake Saturday and get to our hotel in Boise for the evening. Unfortunately, my two daughters (as well as my wife's brother whose house we were staying at) came down with the stomach flu in the middle of Friday night. They were sick enough that it made it pretty obvious we wouldn't be going anywhere on Saturday.

That allowed me time to get a headlight bulb replaced on the van. That evening my wife came back home to tell me that she had to put air into the driver's side front tire. I didn't think much of either of those things. The stomach flu was a greater concern.

It is an 862 mile drive from our home Martha's brother's house in the foothills of Salt Lake City to our home—a long drive    especially with a van full of family including a six-year-old. Being sick on the road is no fun.

Our plans had changed to where we would be leaving Sunday after church. The girls had gotten much better after a day of rest on Saturday.

When we got out of church on Sunday, we saw that the driver's side tire was low again. That meant that it was more of a problem than needing air. We headed back to the auto parts store where I had gotten the headlight bulb the day before. I removed the wheel while my wife went in to buy a tire patch kit. That was a fairly simple fix, so we were soon back on the road.

Nothing seemed like it would be in our way between Salt Lake and Boise.

Then when we neared Twin Falls, Idaho we began to notice a vibrating sound coming from under the van. We stopped on the side of the road and I did a quick walk around the van to see what the problem might be. There wasn't much light, so I couldn't see anything. All the tires were still full.

But the rattling sound was still there when we got back into the van. We pulled into a gas station and I discovered that we had lost a lug nut off the wheel. I was certain I had tightened all of them. We headed to yet another auto parts store where I soon discovered we had not only lost a lug nut but, the stud for that lug was snapped in two. That changed the problem into a more significant problem, so the rest of the family headed down the street for dinner while I set about replacing the stud and lug.

We were back on the road within about an hour. We pulled into our hotel in Boise around 9 pm. Not a bad time for us.

That night, though, one of my sons got sick. By early morning, I had gotten sick as well. I was sick enough that we knew we weren't going anywhere that day either.

We extended our hotel stay in Boise another day. And I rested in bed.

By the next morning, I was feeling better. Not perfect but good enough that we set out on our journey yet again.

When we got into Oregon, though, we stopped at another gas station, and my wife headed into the service station. After I filled up the van and had spent some time in the convenience store, I began to wonder what was happening with my wife. I sent my daughters into the bathroom to see what was happening. When my youngest came out she told me, "Mommy's okay but she's lying on the floor for some reason."

I went on to find out what was happening and discovered she had gotten sick and passed out. We were later told by a doctor in the family losing consciousness can happen from the dehydration that comes from the stomach flu.

We tucked my wife into her seat surrounded by pillows and with a sleeping bag pulled up to her chin. We were determined to get home, so we could all rest in our own beds that night.

It didn't escape our notice that much of what happened the last several days of our journey home from Salt Lake occurred on what was towards the end of the Oregon Trail.