What’s Your Mission?

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Have you ever thought about what your “mission” in life is?  

I’m not talking about the lists of errands and forgotten “To Do’s”.   I’m talking about if you could focus on something that would bring you happiness, joy, purpose, and encompass all that “You” represent to yourself and the world, what would your “mission” be?

My journey to uncover my own “mission” has by no means been an easy one.   In fact, it’s actually pretty fluid and right now, I guess you could say that in this particular moment my “mission” is to spread “POSITIVITY”  through my blog on PositivelyAnne.  

As my life ebbs and flows though, so does my “mission”, but it might help you to understand how to define your own “mission”, if I share with you a little back story on how I have been able to find and define mine.

My journey to find my “mission” began when one afternoon, at the age of eight, I happened to hear these powerful words spoken by Captain James T. Kirk (actor: William Shatner)of the starship Enterprise in the opening credits of Star Trek: The Original Series:  

“Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its five-year “mission”: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.”

I imagine you are laughing now, but I am totally serious.  Totally!

You see I grew up at a time when space was on the minds of all of Americans.  Once Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin planted the American flag on the moon in 1969, those grainy images on our television set of subsequent Apollo missions and the nightly commentary from broadcaster, Walter Cronkite, sent my imagination soaring.  The nursery rhyme of my childhood that talked of a cow jumping over the moon, was now replaced by real people traversing the “cheese” planet with lunar landers.   It all seemed so big and grand, a “mission” of the utmost importance.

In addition, my father was an aerospace executive and one of my earliest memories is standing with him and my brother in front of a rocket as it was intentionally blown apart on a launch pad as part of its’ “mission” testing.    I have never heard a bang as loud as that since then.   It was truly awesome to witness, but more importantly it etched the word “mission” into my subconscious.  The idea of something powerful, something important, something BIG, really, really BIG!

I was too little to watch the original Star Trek series when it premiered on NBC in 1966, and if not for the growing interest in space after the moon landings, the show probably would have faded into obscurity, written off as a novelty, as were most of the shows in the early days of television.  But the moon landings happened and after it’s 3 -year run, Star Trek was blasted into syndication riding high on the possibility that the secrets of space were now within our reach.  I watched it as often as I could.

Now being so young, I had no real concept of the deeper meaning of Star Trek.   I didn’t understand the lasting implications of the diversity of its’ cast.  I didn’t understand its’ ground breaking storylines addressing differences, and inclusion and compromise    I guess you could say I didn’t understand much, if anything, of the historic context of the television I was watching.   

But, to be perfectly honest,  I didn’t really care about any of that.  I didn’t watch the show for its’ story lines, my little girls heart was captivated by the opening credits and Captain James T. Kirk’s hypnotic voice inviting us to be a part of his “mission.”

 “Space, the final frontier…”   

I was rapt with curiosity. I wanted to be a part of the “mission” of this crew.  To explore, to seek, to go where I had never gone before. 

It sounded so important.  I wanted to be important.  To do important work like the men on the moon and my father.  I wasn’t sure that my calling would be space flight…math was not my favorite subject, but I knew that whatever I did, I wanted my “mission” to matter, to my family, to strangers, to the world.

As I entered high school, America had long ago stopped going to the moon, both in real life and on television.  We discovered the moon was not everything the Gumby cartoons had portrayed it to be, let alone Star Trek.   My father now worked on a new space program, a space shuttle that would be able to return to earth…a sort of “space truck”, if you will.   While its’ initial missions seemed endlessly exciting to me and my heart soared along with my fathers at each successful flight, I was watching television both times the shuttle exploded.  First the Challenger, then several years later, the Columbia.

I felt the horror, along with thousands of other students across America, as our disbelieving eyes tracked the sky for the glittering remains of lives lost and dreams shattered.  Something in me decided that day that it was no longer practical to reach for the stars and the moon.  Keeping my feet grounded here at home, where I knew it was safe, seemed the best course of action.  At this point in my life, my “mission” was to get my head out of the clouds and remain rooted in practical tasks and goals here on earth, at least for the next several years.  Sometimes my “mission” seemed very trivial. 

I’m on a “mission” to finish my homework so that I can go out with my boyfriend.

I’m on a “mission” to pass my geometry class.

I’m on a “mission” to get my college applications completed before the deadline.

Then…

I’m on a “mission” to get my laundry done.

I’m on a “mission” to go to the grocery store.

I’m on a “mission” to finish this book I’ve been wanting to finish.

Lastly…

I ‘m on a “mission” to lose 5 pounds.

I’m on a “mission” to not have tan lines.

I really like those Mission Tortilla Chips!!!

Yes, the grandeur of Captain Kirk’s “mission”, the same “mission” that made landing on the moon possible and sent the shuttle into outer space, was now reduced to nothing more than making sure I had a decent tortilla chip to dip into my salsa. 

So much for the final frontier!  

But trivialities aside,  I did accomplish quite a bit after high school.  I graduated with degrees in Liberal Studies-Journalism and Business and launched a successful career, first in hotel management and then in higher education.  I met the love of my life in the dorms and got married and within a few years we were expecting our first child.

One day, in the first trimester of pregnancy, I found myself on the floor of the bathroom wrapped around the toilet battling a terrible case of morning sickness.   I had pretty much memorized “What to Expect When You Are Expecting” and realized I needed to do something to take my mind off of the nausea.  Laying down seemed to make it worse, so bed was out, but I decided I could probably prop myself up on the couch and watch a television program as a distraction.  

I crawled out of the bathroom and over to the couch and turned on the television.  I had no idea what was on.  I heard the opening notes of Star Trek and Captain Kirk’s comforting voice:

“Space, the final frontier…”   I relaxed.  The nausea left me. I closed my eyes and I began to dream about all the “missions” that had come before me and were to follow.  

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I dreamed about those men who braved the odds to fly millions of miles above our earth to place their footprints and our flag in the dust, only to travel home to crickets chirping once we knew that aliens were not a part of the equation. They never gave up on their “mission”, even as America lost interest in them.

I dreamed of my dad and how tirelessly he and his team worked to make space flight look as easy as driving a truck and the sadness he must have carried inside him when all that was possible for space exploration, suddenly seemed impossible.  He never gave up on his “mission” of searching and seeking answers to mans quest to explore space.  

I dreamed of my unborn child, the bean inside me that soon would become our son or daughter and how much I wanted them to know that whatever their “mission” in life, their father and I would never give up on them, ever!

Lastly, but most important, I dreamed of my own “mission” and how I didn’t need to let life’s twists and turns stop me from progressing.  At times, I move forward at warp speed.  Other times, I sit quietly in the shadows taking it all in.   Sometimes, I am a great success.  Other times a great failure.  But, I am always, always compelled to keep trying, not only for myself, but to honor all of those who have come before me and risk it all.

I have a “mission” and it’s ever changing, like me.    But I’m all in.  I’m ready for the challenge and in doing so, I truly think I have a damn good shot at this whole live long and prosper thing.  

Thirty years of marriage, three kids, and four careers later, I’m still trying, one positive step forward at a time.   Won’t you join me?   PositivelyAnne

Please Like and Follow my blog.  You can also follow on FB.  ALL ARE WELCOME!

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