A Cup Of What Sets Your Heart On Fire

Accidentally finding your purpose.

Photo of Derek MacDonald by Isobel Straub

Your whole direction in life can change in a single week, if you let it.

My plan was simple. It’d even seemed straightforward. Back in September, where this baffling adventure began, I’d hoped to improve my communication skills enough to revive my dormant social life. That was the original goal. It’s important to keep that in mind, because that’s why I’d set out to write a new story every day for a full year. I’m only three months into this self-imposed challenge and it’s already upended everything.

A close friend and I got together for coffee this week. We’d been overdue for a good, long chat. I just hadn’t expected it to go the way it did; not really. Sitting across from me in his kitchen, he’d been peering over his mug while I’d looked down into mine. He’d just asked me a great question, for which I told him I didn’t have an answer.

Even though I did.

Working on how I delivered my thoughts had felt like something I’d be able to measure through this writing thing. You know, like: how long did it take me to form a story each day, how many views did it get, how many people responded etc…? I’d expected it to challenge me, but I wasn’t ready for it to open this new door.

Shifting in my seat, I withdrew my right hand from where it’d been cradling my mug and quickly replaced it with my left. I’d initially replied out of reflex; so after digesting what he’d asked, and confronting the real answer—the one I’d brushed past—I let out a sigh and looked up.

“Ok…that’s um… that wasn’t true” I’d told him.

While mining my own thoughts for the parts I’d been leaving out, I actually found comfort in how quickly I’d been able to call myself on my own bullshit. Just as quickly, I noted that I’d been able to find words to describe it to him, too.

Huh...not bad.

I searched his eyes, finding only curiosity and encouragement. I’d feared there’d be judgement or jeering somewhere in there. Which, was a total projection—he’d never given me reason to think he’d be anything other than accepting. It’s just that his question had struck a pretty big nerve. Naturally, it was me who’d been judging and jeering at myself.

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Taking a sip of coffee, I’d chosen to face my insecurity and coax it into taking a break. I’d asked for my friend’s advice—keep in mind, that’s why we were having coffee in the first place. And he’d let me talk through what I’d been wrestling with. So, I’d finally managed to tell him about the career pivot I was considering—or, at least, that I was open to one.

Job, life, all of it.

I’d felt too close to be able to see things truly objectively but, still, I’d wondered where my skills could succeed beyond marketing and writing. Which is why his question had so squarely caught my attention. He’d surfaced a very wild idea, and I’d been unable put it back in the bottle.

“I think you’d make a damn good therapist” he’d said. “Would you ever consider switching careers to do that?”

I… um… wow.

Yes I would consider it, I’d told him.

In fact, I’m still considering it right now. Sitting back in my chair, and setting down my mug, I’d started to wonder: would a few more years of difficulty be worth it? Would going back to school allow for 40+ better, more fulfilled years afterwards? Kind of feels like a no-brainer when looking at it through that lens…

I cracked a smile, unable to help it. A writing challenge—my whacky decision to write stories every day for a year—that’s what’d led us to this point in our conversation. I’d found what felt like rhythm with my story structure. My ability to communicate my ideas felt sharper, and the way he’d been responding during this coffee chat affirmed it. Now we’d unearthed this thing I wouldn’t be able to unsee.

I’ve been noticing that I feel most aligned in life when using my strengths to help others. The part that I’ve been most resistant to, it seems, is acknowledging what I’m actually best able to share with them. Accepting my gifts for what they are continues to challenge me—but to do so is to truly set your heart on fire.

Reframing and restitching loose threads together is what sets mine ablaze. It’s what allows me to help people make sense of the world and their place in it. So I think I’m really doing this; embarking on the winding path of getting my master’s and becoming a licensed clinical therapist.

At least, for now, that’s where this story’s headed.

When your whole direction in life threatens to change in a single week, sometimes letting it is the only real way to find out what actually fills your cup. After all, those are the options, right? To grab a cup of what sets your heart on fire, or to ignore it and let it just sit there… taunting you, while you burn your dreams instead.

onward.

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