See you in two weeks, Cathy!” I gave one final wave to my client and closed the door behind me.
I was exhausted.
I had just finished my fifth 90-minute massage session of the day and noticed how all the common complaints my clients had come in with — sore back, neck pain, stress — had somehow ended up in my body.
I took in a deep breath, closed my eyes, and invited all the energy that wasn’t mine to leave my body and be returned to the earth to be cleansed. I sent love and gratitude to all my amazing clients because I knew I was so fortunate to have a full massage practice. Normally, this short ritual was enough for me to feel more grounded.
But not today.
Today a voice came rumbling up through my core and whispered in my heart, “Laura… there is more to your purpose than this.”
Have you ever had a moment where truth resonated through you?
Well… that was this moment for me.
For years, I thought being a massage therapist was my purpose. I thought the way I was supposed to express this purpose was to build a booked-solid practice.
The truth was, I was burning out. I didn’t know how much more I had to give. But if this wasn’t my purpose, what was?
After one more deep breath, I opened my eyes, grabbed my laptop and cuddled up on the couch with my dogs, Porky and Daisy, flanking each side. Without thinking, I opened Facebook and began my post-client, zone-out and scroll time.
Apparently, God wasn’t done talking to me because a few seconds into my scrolling, a video caught my attention.
Alarm clock going off —>
Shower turning on —>
Coffee pot percolating —>
Traffic and horns on the way to work —>
Endless emails —>
Traffic and more horns on the way home —>
Stress eating at the end of the day—>
Crashing on the couch watching netflix —>
Alarm clock going off…
Then the images started to repeat, getting faster and faster.
And then a male voice chimed in, “You know there has to be more to life than this. You know that you are here for a purpose… but what is your purpose?”
It was like this guy was in my head.
The video continued.
“It’s hard to find your purpose when you’re stuck in the daily routine of your life,” I was nodding along. Then, the cycle broke and scenes of lush palm trees and beautiful beaches where the narrator, who I had seen on an episode of Oprah was standing. He looked straight into the camera and said, “What you need is a pattern interrupt.”
In that serendipitous moment, it felt like God had answered a prayer. A pattern interrupt was exactly what I needed.
Before I had time to question what the hell I was doing (or how the hell I would be able to afford a week-long retreat in Maui without my husband), I clicked the link and filled out the application. Somehow, I made it through the interview and was selected to join 20 other people from around the world to connect back to our hearts and discover our purpose.
…………………..
Six months later, I walked off the plane into an open-air terminal. Birds were chirping in the railings above, the smell of the tropical island filled my lungs, and the breeze hugged me as if to say, ‘Welcome to Maui!’
I always knew Maui would be beautiful. What they don’t tell you is how wonderful Maui smells — thick humid air combined with a fruity floral fragrance that dances with your senses.
I was finally here.
After a quick stop to the bathroom I picked up my checked bag and headed outside to wait for Sue. An hour later, she walked out carrying a massive bag that held her windsurfing gear.
“Well, hello stranger! Fancy meeting you here!” Sue’s warm smile made me feel more comfortable being so far from home, “I can’t believe our flights landed so close to each other. Who would have guessed that two Ohio girls would be hanging out in Maui!”
I had met Sue a handful of times through my acupuncturist friend back in Ohio. She was one of those people who never met a stranger. She had a way to make anyone feel comfortable and at home in her presence.
“That’s the power of social media!” I said as I gave her a hug. The only reason we figured out we were both coming to Maui was because of Facebook. Honestly, I was relieved when I saw her post and we connected. I had jumped on the opportunity to come to the retreat and purchased the cheapest ticket possible without thinking how I would afford two additional days on the island.
The synchronicity and serendipity of our paths crossing meant that I had a couch to crash on and transportation to explore the island.
Plus, Sue was always up for an adventure…
and I had just the place in mind!
The next morning, after we figured out how to use a french press coffee maker for the first time, we hopped into her two-door sedan, rolled down the windows, turned on some Jack Johnson music and headed east towards the Road to Hana.
The Road To Hana is the classic tourist attraction on Maui. The twisting, curving road takes you through the rain forest, along the coast to a quiet little village on the far east side of the island. Along the way, there are thick bamboo forests, rainbow eucalyptus trees, black sand beaches, dozens of waterfalls and whales breaching in the ocean.
“So what’s in Hana that you wanted to find?” Sue asked
“My grandpa preached at a church in Hana and I want to go find it,” I said as I took a sip of my coffee. “My grandparents loved to travel and see the world. But with my grandpa being a preacher, they had to find a way to travel on a budget. So he would do these ‘church swaps’ where he would trade churches with another preacher.”
“It’s kind of like my travel nursing program,” Sue interjected, “just with preachin’ the good word!”
I laughed. “Exactly!”
Three hours later, we pulled up to Wananalua Church. Bells were ringing as the last service was just letting out. Our timing was perfect.
Synchronicity and serendipity again.
Sue pulled off the road and parked next to the wood fence on the edge of the church property. Lush green grass surrounded the church with huge palm trees around the edge of the property. On the far side of the church was a cemetery shaded by a massive banyan tree.
Something about the place drew me in. It was stately, yet inviting, powerful, yet humbling. My soul knew this place as if it was always a part of me.
As soon as my foot stepped onto the property, a tingling sensation rose up through my legs, filled my torso, and fluttered in my heart. An energy drew me across the grass, up the stairs, and into the sanctuary of the island church.
Mahogany beams lined the ceiling and the altar was filled with fresh tropical flowers. My fingers gently floated across the top of the pews, and it felt like every soul who had ever sat on those benches and prayed were intertwining their energy with me.
Behind the wood-carved pulpit was a simple chair lined with a soft blue velvet fabric. While it had obviously been reupholstered over the years, the frame itself looked to be at least 50 years old.
I felt my grandfather’s presence sitting in that chair and preaching from that pulpit as if he were standing there with me. I could hear his voice echoing through the sanctuary as he worshiped. I could feel his arms holding the hymnal close to his heart, with his head bowed and eyes closed as he prayed.
While I was falling deeper and deeper into the moment, Sue was doing what she does best — making friends.
“Laura,” you could tell Sue loved the treasure hunt that was unfolding, “This is Carol. She’s the church secretary.” I flashed a smile and nod to Carol. I was so in the moment that I couldn’t form words.
“When was your grandfather here?” Carol asked with a warm, welcoming smile on her face. I liked her immediately.
“October, 1979.” I responded without hesitating.
“Wow! That’s specific. I’m impressed you know the exact date.”
“I should. It was the month I was born.” They both leaned in so I continued. “My parents were actually supposed to be here that month with them. But… they had to miss it because… well… I showed up!”
“So your parents missed a trip to Hawaii because you were born?” Sue said in a tone that was half question, half joke.
“Yup. I was a ‘whoops-a-baby!’ and my grandparents were here in Hana when I was born.”
“You know,” the secretary chimed in, “we have church newsletters that go back decades. I wonder if we have any from when your grandfather was…’ she was already walking down the aisle before she finished the sentence.
Somehow I knew this was more than just a happy accident. The energy that drew me into the church seemed to be guiding the unfolding moments of synchronicity and serendipity.
After a few minutes rifling through papers in the office, Carol came back with a huge smile on her face and a few pieces of paper in her hands.
“Look at this,” she said, bursting with excitement.
There in front of me were four church newsletters, each with my grandfather’s name, the title of his sermon, the Bible verses he quoted, and a summary of what he said. There was even a note at the bottom of the last newsletter with an announcement of my birth.
Suddenly, the past, present and future collided in this moment. The vastness of the universe seemed to focus in, as if to say the purpose I was seeking had always existed.
It existed within the walls of this church.
It existed within each cell of my body.
It existed within the infinite expanse of space and time.
It connected
generations.
It guided all of us.
It wove a greater vision than any one person could ever see in their lifetime.
Life felt so big and so small all at once, and in the middle of it was me, my grandfather, and this moment, all woven together through a simple desire to live a life of purpose.
…………………..
I spent the following week immersed in a powerful process that brought my purpose into focus even more clearly. I saw the moments in my life where my purpose was nudging me forward and guiding my path. I uncovered the places where I was blocking myself and letting fear stop me.
I realized that my purpose was more than just my job. My purpose was about living fully and authentically as myself and sharing that with others.
Most importantly, I learned that purpose is an embodied experience. It is a deep knowing that is felt within our core. The moment you try and capture your ‘purpose’ into a stagnant point is the moment you lose the essence of purpose itself.
Purpose drives us. Purpose inspires us. Purpose wakes us up. Purpose connects us. Purpose humbles us. Purpose frees us. Purpose lives through us.
…………………..
My grandmother always told me that the moments of synchronicity and serendipity are where you see God directing your life.
The moment I had made the commitment to my purpose, things seemed to magically align through moments of synchronicity and serendipity. It was the feeling that guided me the whole way.
I believe that who you are — as you are — is a gift to this world. Committing to your purpose is about committing to showing up fully in your life and sharing your brilliance with the world.
When you do, make sure to keep your eyes open for moments of synchronicity and serendipity as they guide you on your path.
…………………..
One more thing…
On the way out of the church, there were postcards for sale that had a painting of the church on the front. I put $20 in the offering basket and grabbed two of them — one for me and one for my grandmother.
When I returned home the next week, I got a call from my grandmother who told me that she knew the artist who drew the painting and was good friends with her for years after their trip.
Synchronicity and serendipity again.
