I think most people go their whole lives without knowing what purpose they have in the world, or they figure it out too late. I realized, at some point over the last couple of days, that I am here to help people.
I can't say exactly what it was that made me realize this. Just that I noticed I kept saying to myself over and over, "I am the poster child for 'give til it hurts.' " Maybe that's not such a bad thing?
I'm still trying to process the irony though. That it sounds like I'm more or less willing to become a martyr, "for the greater good," when a certain someone has kind of always felt that way, and I chastised him for it. I'm a douchebag. Although that doesn't make you any less of one, either.
So now I've been tossing around the idea of being a living organ donor, like donating a kidney or a liver or bone marrow. Then I remembered my dad, a former alcoholic with diabetes, and I think I should save a kidney and my liver for him because he seriously might need it someday. So I think, for now, I'll look into placing myself on the national marrow registry. I think somehow I've come to believe that you can't fully appreciate life until you give it to someone else...not to mention the karma.
I talked about this with my mother, and it makes her very uncomfortable. She said that donating your organs when you die is "a very noble thing to do" but considers living donation to be something different. My mother is very bizarre and I don't understand how she grew up to possess her way of thinking. I guess I just wish people could be more open. Just imagine how different the world would be if everyone considered someone other than their own person. Maybe we wouldn't be in such a societal quagmire.
Sigh...I digress.
