A Purpose-Driven Ship

The swift, churning current carries the ship restlessly down the river, over the dark waters.  Spinning uncontrollably, rudderless, the ship glides in circles around and around, being sucked down the never-ending river.  Occasionally, she bumps into a rock here, or gets hung up in the shallows there, but nonetheless she continues onward.  Hoping that she will one day twist and turn herself right into a safe harbor where she will be happily moored for the remainder of her life.  This was the endless nightmare Anne felt each and every day of her adult life that always seemed to creep into her thoughts. 

            As she sat on a bench waiting for an old friend, she tried to suppress this nightmarish dream by the only way she knew how, which was mindless scrolling on her phone.  The number of “likes” she received on comments or photographs she chose to post for her “friends” to judge used to give her a euphoria like no other, but like any drug addiction, the jubilant feeling wore off much faster.  She needed something new to make her happy, but what?  Lately, she noticed her focus on a task, any task was always eclipsed by her unhappiness with her career.  She felt like she had no direction in life.  

What puzzled her the most was that she thought, no she knew she had done everything right in life.  She graduated high school with honors, followed in her parent’s footsteps, attending their alma mater where they met and started their careers in the medical field together.  She studied hard all through college, rarely attending parties, and never dating.  Her career came first.  Once out of college she got the job she had always dreamed of and eventually purchased her own house.  Yes, Anne was successful for a young woman in her twenties.  So why was misery clouding her life?  She hoped her friend Marisa, whom she had not seen in several years would help her.  Maybe, she would at least get her mind off her troubles for an afternoon. 

Marisa’s brisk walk up to Anne startled her to the point that she dropped her phone on the ground.  Having not seen one another since college, they commented on one another’s youthful looks, and made their way across the street to the restaurant. 

The coffee was delivered to their table as Marisa was discussing her move back to her parent’s house.  “I never thought I would end up back with my parents, but I can’t complain.  I’m saving a ton and have my meals made for me.”  She turned her thin, brown-eyed face up towards Anne with a smirk saying, “I have to admit Anne I am so jealous of you.”

Anne pretended to appear shocked, but deep down she knew her friends were jealous of her, and while this made her happy, she also felt a twinge of guilt.  “You’re jealous of me?  What do you mean?”

“You have the job you always wanted, and have a beautiful house of your own.  You have roots!  In school I always knew that you would be successful.”

“But you are successful too,” Anne lied.

“Successful in the number of jobs I’ve held or career moves I’ve made,” laughed Marisa. 

            “You don’t realize how unhappy I am in my job,” she lowered her head and in almost a whisper, “I have grown to hate the bedside.  I wish I could change my job every day.”

            “Then change it,” Marisa had a look of surprise in her face.  Anne couldn’t understand this simple answer.  “If you are that unhappy look for something else to do in life.”

            “It’s not that simple.  I went to college for nursing.  Growing up, I always thought I would help the sick.  Maybe because it’s what my parents did.  How can I go back now?”

            Marisa dropped the cup of coffee from her lips, “I don’t see it as going back.  Isn’t it more like going forward? How will you ever know where you’re going if you keep looking back?”

            This small, modest piece of wisdom hit Anne like a ton of bricks.  Never before had she thought of her life in this perspective before.  Here she thought their lunch was going to be focused on her own success.  She knew she would take the bulk of the conversation to build herself up on the rubble of her old friend.  Yes, she knew she was self-centered and kidnapped conversations with others for her own egotistical ways. Now, she sat dumbfounded looking at Marisa in a completely new light. 

            Marisa felt embarrassed for what she thought was preaching to her old friend.  She could feel herself get warm from the emotion building up in her.  Apologizing, she stared out the window at the trees across the busy street.  Sure, she had changed her jobs from one to another, never happy with any of them.  She was constantly unhappy staying at a job for more than a year at the most.  While she had experience in various areas, such as retail and healthcare, she knew very little about any of them.  This she knew for a fact.  She was not a master of any trade.  This made her unhappy.  

            Here they sat.  Two beautiful young women, both unhappy, now sitting in silence.  Soon, the phones were pulled out and the scrolling commenced.  Repeatedly, Anne glanced up at Marisa, wishing to return to their conversation, only to quickly drop her eyes back to her lap before she was seen.  For the first time, she felt closer to her old friend, but was too scared, too big to admit it.  

            As they departed the restaurant, they said their farewells and turned in separate directions.  It didn’t take long for Anne’s nightmare to resurface.  Only this time she saw many ships spinning, all bumping into one another.  Some sinking, others appearing to grow on the dark water.  She noticed a boat going from one harbor to the next, still spinning, but with a purpose.  “Is this ship just as unhappy as my own?” thought Anne.  

            She glanced back at the restaurant, its awning-covered windows appeared to be eyes watching after her.  People bustled in and out, passing her on the sidewalk.  She felt a sense of warmth, enlightening the dark waters of her mind.  Down the street she drifted, with more direction than ever.