Growing up we were always told not to look directly into the sun, and growing up, I was always one to follow the rules. In fact, I was such an obedient kid during my elementary school years that I was known to burst into tears on the rare occasion that my name tag would make the agonizing switch from green to yellow, or worse, to red. I remember one instance in particular though, where I very uncharacteristically chose to test the limits of my defiance. The day was as bright and warm as any other fond childhood memory. It was during recess, and while most of the other kids from my class could be found playing football in the field or gleefully hanging from the jungle gym, you could have found me swinging solemnly by myself, staring directly into the sun. Back then I didn’t have too many friends. I had a best friend to hang out with when I was at home, but at school, the extent of my socialization began and ended with the conversations I held in my own head. Most days recess time simply consisted of me wandering around the outskirts of our field and thinking. No matter how hard I seem to try though, I can’t force myself to recall the internal dialogues which wracked my brain so long ago. Although I can’t remember my exact thoughts, I can remember the feelings which came with them, and I vividly remember the sense of clarity and warmth which swept over me as the sun’s rays beat down in response to my gaze. I didn’t understand why looking into the sun was supposed to be so bad for me. Sure the longer I stared the more black smudges appeared in the distance, but in my mind, there was no way that the risks I was exposing my eyes to were greater than the beauty which engulfed that flame covered rock. This beauty which had previously been completely taboo to me became a gift, but just as quickly as that gift came into my life, it was taken away. “What’re you doing staring at the sun like that?!” Shrieked the voice of one of Wood View Elementary school’s perpetually angry lunch ladies/Recess aids “Stare any longer and you’ll go blind!” yelled the woman while wrapping her long, wrinkly, bony fingers around my arm and breaking the trance which had transfixed my focus. Looking back on the situation I didn’t receive any more discipline than the scolding which that recess aid gave me, but even still, that was enough to scare me straight. I knew I had tasted some form forbidden fruit, and even though I enjoyed that gift immensely, at the time I valued my proper behavior at school more than my own well-being and beliefs.
Perhaps it was the recess aid’s voice which resembled nails scratching against a chalk-board that scared me most, or it could have been her skeleton like grasp, but either way, it took me 12 years to return for a taste of the forbidden fruit I had once found. Fast-forward those 12 years later from that fateful day at recess and you’d find a much different version of me, still the same Christian, but with a much different identity. As I matured and changed throughout the yeas my problems did too. In my experience, growing up came with finding friends, and the struggles with loneliness which plagued my youth were replaced with battles against exhaustion. The relationships I had built, while all valuable in their own light, became too much for me to handle alongside the workloads of sports, school, work, and managing my own sanity. The value I found in myself was largely replaced by my purpose in relation to others. I was no longer following my own dreams but rather constantly pursuing the unattainable goal of keeping everyone else in my life happy. I had lost my purpose, my path, and in a life where routine had become the regular I lost my hope for changing my life for the better. At times I found myself unable to even find a reason to roll out of bed in the morning. If only I had known the answers I sought were hidden just behind the blinds I closed to keep the sunlight out as I wasted my passion lying motionless in bed.
My story is unique, but my struggles with loneliness, exhaustion, purpose, and self-worth are surely not. This became incredibly apparent to me last week as I shared the company of an unfamiliar crowd. Walking through the winding streets of Chicago offers different experiences at different times. By noon, the city is alive. Train stations and highways pump people in and out of the city like a heart’s veins carry blood throughout the body. Observing Chicago at 6am paints a much different picture. Where there were once bodies hurrying to their next exciting adventure there now lay shivering homeless men and woman desperately counting down the minutes until the sun rises and provides even an ounce of life-saving warmth. Construction workers stare aimlessly with tired eyes back into the reflection in their cups of coffee, taking in sips of precious energy as they exhale clouds of cool Chicago morning air. Perhaps the worst site Chicago mornings have to offer spectators are the waves on top of waves of professional working Americans who so clearly have so much, and yet so easily walk past the poor, hungry, and dying people of Chicago without as much as batting an eyelash in their direction. My walk lead me past people of all backgrounds, and this journey served almost as much purpose as the destination. Seeing the pain which curses Chicago was definitely eye opening, but incomparable to the beauty that was to come. My journey ended with the road, as Van Buren Street lead me to the iconic Buckingham Fountain, and from there to the lakefront trail, I stopped and switched my focus from the people around me to the sun which had just barely begun its ascent into the sky. Staring out over the rolling waves of Lake Michigan and into the rising sun felt like staring back into the eyes of an old friend. No words needed to be spoken because in each other’s presence everything was understood. As I paced along the lakefront trail I noticed something peculiar, no matter where I walked, no matter where I strayed, the beam of light shining across the water’s surface would always shine back directly at me. Following this experience I realized this too is true in life. No matter where we may walk, no matter where we may stray, the sun is always shining directly at us. See there is purpose in every situation no matter how seemingly big or small. The ability to find that purpose is key to our happiness. Whether you’re the homeless man lying in the streets, the construction worker staring blankly into his morning coffee, or the business professionals ignoring the world around them as they walk to work, finding a way to become a better person from every situation provides purpose to any circumstance. Do not grow tired with life, for life is the most beautiful gift we will receive while on this earth. Instead, become hungry for more. Allowing the weight of the world to exhaust you is allowing the crippling of your soul. Instead, nourish your soul, become hungry for life and all of the opportunities that come with it. It is in the hunger for life where purpose resides.
