Walls and Towers

I am struggling mightily with purpose this morning.

Purpose? I continue to smash myself headlong against the walls of my existence. There is such an inner disconnect between what I think I want to be and what I really am, of where I'd like to be and where I really am, of the relationships I am in and what I wish they were, of what I have to care about and what I really wish I could care about. This absorb my time rather than the things I wish I could absorb my time with.

But as I write this, I wonder if I'm looking in the wrong direction.

The visual I used above pictured things on the horizontal plane, a smashing of walls and breaking out into the outside into a new area. But what happens if those walls are more firmly set than I imagine. Is it possible that I should be looking up rather than out?

Up on two levels, I should imagine. On one level, my relationship with God (more often not diligent than diligent) which inevitably gives me more purpose when I concentrate on Him; on the other level, building up upon the walls which surround me rather than trying to breaking through them, a tower rather than a castle.

The reality is, barring a layoff or end of the world as I know it, most change in my life is going to be incremental at this point, not the sweeping arc of destiny that I so often imagine (and desire on some level, I suppose). That being the case, perhaps I need to deal with the fact that I am building brick by brick - or even destroying brick by brick as necessary - rather than large scale destruction and construction. It's not that nothing is going on - it's just slower (more people and animals involved now) and needs to be seen in the web of relationships that my life is encompassed by.

Can I be patient and determined with the same intensity that I am currently trying to batter things down with?