Reflecting on Purpose

This piece is the second part of a non-fictional series where I share some of my education-related experiences.

When I was going to resume in the university as an undergraduate, I was told, “face your book, work hard and get a first class, so you can get a good job”. I was only a teenager, and there was not much of the “follow your heart” narrative back then. Perhaps there was and I had not heard of it. The more prevalent narrative then was that as long as you had the opportunity to go to the university to study something, you were fortunate.

In contrast, these days, emphasis is placed on recognizing your gifts and talents and letting that self-awareness influence your choice of what to study in the university. On a personal note, I do genuinely esteem hard work and dedication. I did as an undergraduate and I still do. However, I am grateful for the balance to the “work hard” narrative, through emphasis on the vital importance of interest and passion as well. Over the years, I have grown to see that when interest and passion are leveraged, they can be long-lasting fuels of commitment, consistency, and dedication. In essence, they can be deployed to drive long-term success.

Back to my account. I endeavoured to work hard in school and gratefully, I got good grades. But I knew that the Nigerian labour market was not for the faint-hearted. I knew it unmistakably (Lol). I was not ignorant of the plummeting rate of employment. No. But I had hope. My hope was that my hard work would pay. Thankfully, it did. I got my first job on the strength of merit.

However, since that time, I have come to recognize the importance of another perspective, previously unaccounted for: the need to find meaning in what you do, when you do it. I believe it is important for an individual to think about how they perceive their job/work/vocation/whatever they do, and consider whether it makes any meaning to them, especially as they devote the substance of their life (their time, focus, efforts and so much more) to it.

Again, I say this carefully, not to undermine the dignity of labour, and not to encourage slothfulness stemming from a self-centered “the job is beneath me” approach or a near-narcissistic “I can’t do it because I’m just not passionate about it” approach. (On a lighter note, the average hustling Nigerian might even reply to that “Abeg, who passion help?” Lol.)

I say it because of a formative experience I had for about 3 years post-graduation. Some people work very hard and long hours. However, because they find meaning in what they do, that understanding reinvigorates them. I, on the other hand, struggled with growing unhappiness and an increasingly implacable sense of despair. I could not make sense of many things, even though I showed up to work every work day. I doubt anyone could tell these things from the surface, especially since I remained a reliable worker. But it was rough.

With the benefit of hindsight, I know now that my real issue was not so much the unpleasantness of the jobs I had, but a deeper desire for a sense of purpose, meaning, clarity, a reason why. Talking (in this case, writing) about letting a sense of purpose drive your choice and approach to work is a path I tread carefully. I understand that half-bread may be better than none, especially when there are piling bills to be paid. I also know what it is like to stay at home and wait for something to turn up- a call, an email, news, anything — just so you can affirm to be “doing something with your life” (Lol). That wait is not beans AT ALL (to mean it is not a subject to be taken lightly). It can, in fact, be very frustrating and depressing at the same time.

However, I have seen that the lack of a deeper reason (a sense of meaning, purpose, a deeper reason to go on, a reason why) can rouse a measure of implacable despair and resentment for one’s circumstances. It can make them blame everything else and everyone else for all that is wrong, as I found myself doing at the time. It can make life seep out of them.

Eventually, I gained courage, several months after, to ask a question about how one could quieten such feelings of unrest. One of the teachers in the Q/A session answered me kindly, “I think I understand what you’re asking. But I don’t think anybody can really give you an answer. You will need to go back to God in prayer and just talk to Him about it.” To be honest, my first response to her answer was anger (Lol). I felt it was a dismissive answer. But I later calmed down, as I perceived a quiet nudge in my heart to at least give it a try. So, I decided to. I prayed that God would sincerely help me, and I opened up my heart to receiving an answer.

One morning, sometime later, I was reading the book of Genesis when I saw two verses in a new light. They resonated with me as the answer to my question, because they immediately gave me peace. The verses were Genesis 2:8–9 (NIV): “Now the Lord God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; and there he put the man he had formed. The Lord God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground — trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food….”

‭‭The insight I got from these verses was that I could trust God to lead me, throughout my life, to a spacious place, one where my work (job/vocation/endeavour) would always be “pleasing to my eye” (such that I could look at it and feel a sense of satisfaction, contentment, and fulfilment) and “good for food” (it would be good enough to provide abundantly for me, and as an offshoot of that provision, be a blessing to others also).

It has now been a couple of years now since I first received this understanding. It continues to serve as an anchor to me, as a centre which truly holds.