We Are Incredibly Important Specks of Dust
Six Lessons from 10 Years of A Wild New Work
Part Four
This is part of a series to mark the 10-year anniversary of my self-employment journey. Part one: Here is the Only Place to Start. Part two: Not Easy, but Easeful. Part three: It Takes the Time it Takes
Image by Elias Maurer, via Unsplash
We Are Incredibly Important Specks of Dust
There's a wonderful quote attributed to Rabbi Bunim of P’shiskha: "Keep two pieces of paper in your pocket at all times. One says 'I am a speck of dust,' and the other, 'The world was created for me.'"
Rabbi Bunim's words speak to a core paradox at the heart of our soulful journeys: that they are both, at the same time, incredibly important and also not that big of a deal.
In the last ten years of working for myself and holding space for others who are attempting to live into their callings, I've found that finding balance within this paradox is essential.
In the early days of my vocational journey, I only believed that I was a speck of dust. I had internalized what we're taught by dominant capitalist culture: that I had no calling, and that the best I could hope for was to find a job that was a good enough fit and that paid me well. When I watched others who were clearly on some other kind of path full of meaning and vitality, I believed that they were special and that I should just be satisfied with whatever corporate overlord would have me.
Even when I began working for myself, I wouldn't have used the word "calling" to describe what I was working toward. I viewed self-employment as another form of the job, assuming that the purpose was still to fit myself into whatever work was needed and that people would pay for. I felt like such a speck of dust that anytime the external world didn't validate what I was offering, it was almost devastating.
Interestingly, my spiritual journey and the creation of A Wild New Work both quickened around the same time, and as I became more connected to the great Mystery of Life, I began to notice which parts of my work had the quality of a calling. These were things like writing, teaching, the podcast–sharing insights I had received and cultivated in myself first and that weren't about filling some kind of external gap. As these gifts bloomed within me, I began to feel more like the world was made for me in some way, and that I had an important part to play in it.
Feeling that my life was meaningful brought me so much sturdiness and joy that I began to forget the "speck of dust" part of the equation. When my second child was born in the maelstrom of 2020, I started to understand for the first time how insidious capitalism was and why, even if you love what you do and can earn money from it, we would always be trapped by the need to make an income. I felt a surge of purpose and wanted to work as much as I could, often feeling resentment about the fact that my family needed so much of me. I don't think I ever believed I was anyone's savior, but I felt convinced that my work was absolutely essential and should not have been slowed down by the demands of mothering.
Five years later, I find myself reflecting on how important it is that both sides of the rabbi's statement be kept together.
It's not true that each of us is only a speck of dust, even though that's what capitalist culture teaches us (specks of dust here to produce and consume).
And it's not true that the world is only made for us, which is often trumpeted by white supremacist and colonizer culture.
For a life of depth, meaning, and sanity, we need both to be true at the same time: we are specks of dust and the world was created for us.
Understanding which of the two statements you have an affinity for and where more balance is needed will be immensely helpful no matter where you are on your vocational journey.
Do you see yourself as only a speck of dust?
You're not alone if you believe you don't have much to offer the world. You likely grew up in a culture that treats all living beings as commodities to be used up and sold on the open market. You probably weren't taught that there are gifts within you that need to grow and be given away to the community; you were told to put your head down, clock in, clock out, and be grateful if you can put food on the table. Living this way creates a dusty existence–it's dry and lifeless.
Most of the people that I work with need help seeing their gifts and the meaningfulness of their path because it takes a perspective that many of us lost. In this mechanical culture, we forget how to recognize the signs and patterns that point us down our unique and soulful path, which is rich with congruence, ease, and meaning.
If you tend to believe that you're not here for a reason and that you don't have important medicine to offer the world, I encourage you to consider that that's total bullshit. For a day, a week, or a month, choose to believe that you were actually born in this time and place on purpose, and that the ecosystem around you needs your medicine. Who cares if this is objectively "true" or not? Try it on and see what changes.
Do you take your calling too seriously?
Taking the soulful path too seriously is a trap I fall into often. I know I'm there when I feel a lot of tightness around the Work I'm doing–a sense of wanting to control it, speed it along, etc. It's like I'm there at the River of Life trying to get the Water to flow faster and fill up along the riverbanks. If I forget the humble rhythms of a simple, day to day life that keeps me grounded, I can get swept away and feel flooded.
There's another way that taking our paths too seriously can show up, and it has to do with the shadowy side of boundary work. I love a good boundary and understand that for too long, too many people have had their consent and boundaries trampled over. That said, I think the pendulum has swung too far away from "I am a speck of dust," and now there are people who are taking themselves and their work way too seriously and being dicks about it. I've seen people who are claiming to be about their soul's work who cancel anyone who disagrees with them, don't offer anything without expecting payment, or talk down to those they deem beneath them.
It's very important to maintain humility on this path, whether by letting go of the attempts to control it, or by remembering that everyone is gifted. We all have gifts that are essential, and we're each a speck of dust on this vast Earth.
Finding someone who can live into this balance is so special, because it's really hard to do in this culture. I've been fortunate to meet many friends, collaborators, and guides who are absolutely in their giftedness and are also humbly generous with what they have. I've met many other people who are gifted and have even amassed great followings of people but who lost their humility along the way and treat others terribly.
When this core paradox is balanced, we live purposefully while staying grounded and humbled. We stay committed to the Work that's ours to do without needing to put it (or ourselves) above anyone else. When we dance between being a speck of dust and being worthy of an entire world, the Waters of a meaningful life can flow, enabling our dreams, gifts, and connections to grow with ease.