We must look within ourselves to see our own inner strengths, understand our weaknesses and do the best to compensate for these weaknesses through practice or the help of others. I wonder, however, if anyone truly discovers “one’s self.” Someone may find his or her niche in life. But does that mean one has truly found his or her self? What does it actually mean to discover one's own purpose?
Remember, first of all, that what we are born into is a sort of divine accident. Our lives, therefore, are partly an accident of birth. Some are born into far better situations and circumstances, with more advantages than others. Many people must create a life for themselves. It is very rare that lives are planned out for people (in which case one can’t really discover one’s self because that self has been already artificially defined) or lives are helped along with ease (in the case of those with good deals of money and/or resources and are taught to use them effectively.)
I must admit that I myself have not even close to fully taken full advantage of my resources for my self-discovery. I’ve often been too busy trying to figure out solutions to the plights of other folks before I deal with my own internal questions. Being so geared towards trying to help others is apparently a fairly rare disposition, especially to the extent that I am. I feel like I’m required to help others in order to feel myself complete.
That word, complete, in and of itself, is a curious concept to consider. Is anything ever complete? I would say not. There is always more to add. All is infinite. No one is ever “complete,” per se, though it is virtually impossible to be content enough to feel “complete” in a sense of the word. By that, I mean “complete” as in having everything you need, or at least, what you’ve become convinced is all that you need. Everyone has different things that they “need” to convince themselves that they are “complete” somehow.
People can be so screwy. We’re each asked to find ourselves. Yet, all we find is that, in fact, we’re a lot like a bunch of other people. So, in effect, we go out to find ourselves, find a bunch of other people, find out how to fit in with them, then hopefully pass on to what after succeeds life feeling somehow “complete.”
Such is Life, and it is a very, very odd thing. Will any of us ever understand it? Why are we here?