And entering into the house, they found the child with Mary his mother, and falling down they adored him; and opening their treasures, they offered him gifts; gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
Matthew 2.11
The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away.
David Viscott
We all have a gift; we all have a passion – it’s just about finding it and going into it. Being an asset to your family and community.
Angela Bassett
Recent Weekly Reflections have dealt with topics related to dharma, otherwise referred to as `calling´ or `vocation´, and remembering who we are. Initial doubts may have been picked up from our adult carers and subsequently internalised and perhaps even amplified.
As a result, our intuitive perception of our gifts, which may have never even ripened into conscious recognition, has often faded into the background as we progressed from childhood, through adolescence, into adulthood. The recognition of our own gifts is made all the more challenging in a culture increasingly driven by external metrics such as security, status, and material success.
Of course, some families are supportive of the child’s innate gifts from the get-go. This is wonderful to witness. In such cases, not only are the gifts named, cherished, and fostered, but the child is encouraged to cultivate her own gifts, in an age-appropriate manner, through the months and years prior to adulthood and beyond.
The beneficiaries of such a blessed upbringing are rare indeed, and invariably radiate positive energy and a sense of purpose as they go about their lives. I have met people who already `knew´, as young children, their gifts and what to do with them, and have been able manifest them to the full.
Many of us, however, were not so lucky, and have had to re-discover (re-member) our gifts later in life. The good news is that this is possible. If, however, we have made our way into adulthood on autopilot, having lost sight of our gifts and their importance as the portal to a fulfilling life, we will first need to be `nudged awake´ by some circumstances or events along the way before we can reconnect to our gift.
These awakenings often take the form of a so-called `crisis´: we get ill, our dearest ones die, we suffer unexpected setbacks in our professional careers, or find our long-term relationships or marriages falling apart. Such crises often happen in mid-life, whereby this is more a qualitative than a quantitative term. I have met many people who were nudged out of autopilot in their early forties, as I was; but also, others who experienced this phenomenon in their twenties, and still others much later in life.
The germination of the seed has its own timeline and cannot be forced. It can, however, be stimulated by conscious exploration, which will invariably confront us with the discomforting spaciousness (loneliness) and silence (darkness), which accompany every crisis, when we find ourselves standing in the rubble of our dreams.
It is therefore important to resist the very human impulse to make the discomfort go away. Our drive to return to the perceived homeostasis of the comfort zone must be resisted if we are to grow beyond the boundaries of living on autopilot. Growth happens on the outer edges and, especially, just beyond the frontiers of our comfort zones.
Silence is the environment in which we can begin to re-discover our inner gifts. It is the place where we can, perhaps for the first time in our adult lives, evolve from `human doings´ to `human beings´. Living on autopilot is all about doing and having, as we strive to find people, places, and things `out there´ which will still the hunger and fill the emptiness within.
Only when, perhaps through trial and error, we come to the realisation that the answers are not to be found `out there´ do we dedicate ourselves to the inner quest; an exploration which will lead us to the re-discovery of the gifts granted us, which we can then choose to share with the world.
The first indicator of inner gifts is what is termed `flow´. That is the state in which we are so engrossed in an activity that we lose all track of time. This is not to be confused with the state of `zoning out´ as many of us do when watching Netflix series or scrolling endlessly on social media. How do we tell the difference? After activities carried out in flow, we feel energised and have a sense of gratitude and accomplishment. This is what I feel after a period of gardening, coaching, writing, or dancing.
Zoning out, in contrast, leaves us feeling empty, exhausted, and even more restless in our quest towards filling the `hole in the soul´. We may even feel a gnawing sense of regret for having wasted our time or pay the price of the hangover, spiritual, emotional, or physical, which often results.
Another signpost in our quest to discover inner gifts is our curiosity. When we liberate ourselves from the non-stop consumption so highly prized by our culture, we can tap into our long dormant curiosity. This may lead to engaging in long neglected or new activities, such as painting, reading, or travelling, or simply taking more interest in the people we encounter in our daily activities.
I bet I am not the only person whose natural curiosity was sometimes admonished with: `Curiosity killed the cat! ´. I can only surmise that our adult carers must themselves have been overwhelmed and out of sorts when they tried to clip the wings of our curiosity.
The next pointer of importance is joy. Real joy, not the ephemeral release of endorphins upon winning the current battle in the war of life, only to find the next battle waiting. Joy leaves us relaxed, grateful, and feeling good in our own skin rather than excited, restless, and on edge.
The activities that bring me joy are decoupled from the carrot and stick dynamic of reward and punishment that so dominate our culture. Something I enjoyed immensely when growing up was daydreaming. I have rediscovered this in later life and find it a rich source of imagination, relaxation, and belonging in the natural world.
What does our gut say about the various activities in which we engage? The challenge here is to hear the voice of the gut in the first place. We spend so much time in our heads, living a cerebral life, that many of us are disconnected for not only our gut, but from our bodies in general. Young children do not appear to have this problem.
If, like me, you lost your connection to your body at some point, you may wish to avail of the many opportunities available today to renew the connection. Mine happen to be endurance sports, yoga, and dancing. While performance may be an incentive when we embark on this re-embodiment, it no longer plays a role in my case. Now it is more a case of engaging in `meditation in motion´.
Agency is another important factor when it comes to identifying our natural gifts. What childhood activities gave me the greatest satisfaction? Building Lego without instructions showed me that I could translate my ideas into reality. It is the same agency that enables us to put plans into action.
In the business world this field is called `Operations´. This gift helped me navigate a childhood world characterised by sensory overload and encumbrance. Liberated from the need to garner attention or validation, it serves me today in transforming ideas into activities in alignment with my inner values and needs.
Problem solving can also show us the way to our gift. What kind of problem do you like to solve, by inclination rather than instruction? Streamlining the chaos of my childhood world comes to mind here.
Even as a child, frustrated by the kettle having been unplugged to accommodate the toaster and not reinstated, I decided that later in life I would have N+1 electrical outlets for the N machines in the kitchen. My drive was to facilitate the smooth flow of energy in daily activities. Today, my gifts include workflow management, process mapping and process reengineering, a direct extension of what I was already doing as soon as I was tall enough to survey the worktop in the kitchen.
Yet another question which can help us identify our gifts is: `What do other people value in my presence? ´. Here we may need to ask explicitly for feedback. We all bring our special presence into every interaction; of that we can be sure. Some are good listeners; others provide encouragement or help in achieving clarity around issues that would otherwise baffle us. The most important people in my life have invited me to bathe in a shared experience of the wonder and beauty of life. The list could be expanded ad infinitum.
Finally, what would you work on if money weren’t an issue? This will surely give us important pointers to our gifts. Unfortunately, many never get to ask this question because of the priority given to financial security over fulfilment, as if they were mutually exclusive. They are not. Work can be play; it can be a great source of fun, if aligned with our gifts and core values.
The gifts, when they become apparent, may surprise us, and require of us a readjustment in our way of viewing the whole concept of gifts. They come in all shapes and sizes. A book written in 2010 by Ronald D. Davis entitled `The Gift of Dyslexia´ opened my eyes and heart in this respect. In this beautiful exploration, he identifies as a gift what others refer to as a learning disability, and documents how some well-known artists and scientists made remarkable use of that gift.
With the help of pointers, we can identify or re-member our true gifts. These then become the North Star by which we can navigate the unfolding of the rest of our life. If we pay close attention, we will experience fulfilment, feeling complete alignment between our being and our doing.
