For about the last 4 years I’ve been on a journey. I woke up one day next to the one and only man for me, in my nice house, down the hall from my 2 amazing daughters, surrounded by the cutest fur babies any person could ask for and I felt empty. I felt flat. It seemed as if my life wasn’t real. The feeling made no sense to me because I had everything I ever dreamed of. I thought I was losing my mind.

I grew up a good, church-girl. I behaved as I was expected to behave. I abstained from all the pitfalls of youth. I surrounded myself with others like me. I’ve always been a rules follower. I enjoy efficiency and clean living. Go ahead, roll your eyes. I can’t blame you. I realize my life experience isn’t what you typically hear from people. It certainly isn’t a lifestyle that people readily admit to. Our culture more easily embraces edgy, alternative, tradition-crushing lifestyles. I have been picked on by even those closest to me. One of my daughters once said to me in a moment of extreme anger, “Everyone can’t be expected to be perfect like you, Mom!”. It stung bad.

It’s easy to look at the lives of others and judge. We raise our eyebrows at the behaviors of others. We look down our lofty noses at people we consider less than us, believe differently from us, or who just have different interests. Don’t pretend that every one of us isn’t guilty of that at some level.  That is the nature of humanity and our culture. What we don’t do enough is consider the other person’s “why”.

Would you like to know why I live the way I do? I like to be able to predict an outcome.  Following rules means I stay out of trouble. Being skilled at the tasks I take on means the people around me are pleased with me. I grew up with a Mother who was unpredictable because of illness. I grew up with parents who brought out the worst in each other. My childhood, though full of plenty of good times, was unpredictable in a way that set me constantly on edge. I found security in tradition and perfection because that is what worked for me. I worked hard to eliminate risk and ensure stability. I worked to achieve all of the things I felt I wasn’t provided.

Here is what I’ve come to realize: We build our own prisons.  Several years ago I had a friend share with me a very similar feeling of unhappiness with having everything she ever dreamed of. She had that same moment of bewilderment with how she could wake up unhappy. I thought she was crazy!  It’s because I wasn’t there yet. When I think of her life, I can see how she had also worked really hard to right the things that weren’t as she felt they should be in her childhood. Her self-made prison looked just like the inverse of her childhood home. I don’t believe mine and my friend’s dreams had anything to do with our gifts, abilities, or purpose in life. I believe our dreams were just blueprints to right life’s injustices. At two different points in life, we each woke up in chains and had no idea why.  So, for the last four years I’ve been hunting the bolt cutters.

I stumbled upon a scene in a movie that I believe gets at the heart of this dilemma.

When I saw this scene I was dumbfounded. I realize it’s a kid’s movie, but it landed heavy on the place in me that longs to live up to my life’s purpose. In the movie, Po has it figured out. I see him as representing a person who is really in touch with what he is passionate about. He is using his gifts and abilities to achieve his purpose. I know real-life people who are living like that. They inspire me.  Master Croc and Master Ox, in the scene, are heroes who were willfully imprisoned. They represent those of us who for a number of reasons aren’t living out our purpose. We are ignoring our gifts and abilities. We believe that our prisons are protecting us and others. I find it truly sad. I didn’t have to look far at all to find a real-life example of that lifestyle. I am living it. Unfortunately, I’ve met many more just like myself who are stuck in their self-made prisons.

In my life, some Po’s have ripped down my prison door and like Po are hooting and pumping their fists in excitement. Unlike Master Croc and Master Ox, I no longer plan to accept the prison.