Chris Pepple's Blog, page 2
April 5, 2016
Life’s Purpose
I once met Armiger Jagoe, author of You Are Next in Line: Everyone’s Guide for Writing Your Autobiography. During a lecture on how to write your autobiography, he shared parts of his life story. He also shared tips on how he decided what to include in his book. He suggested that while trying to outline your life story, you write a short statement that declares your life’s purpose.
What was your purpose for living yesterday, last month, last year? Can you put that in words? If you write this statement of life purpose frequently, you might see that your perspective changes from time to time. You may feel that your life’s purpose has shifted through the years.
I agree with Mr. Jagoe that writing a statement can bring focus into your life. This is true of all people. We can see the significance of our existence. There is someone that we love, that we inspire, that we nurture or that we encourage. Our life’s purpose may be related to our career. Maybe you are the person leading us one step closer to a medical or scientific breakthrough. Maybe you are the writer that will inspire thousands by your words and change a generation. Maybe you are a politician that will bring much needed changes to a nation. Maybe you are a doctor or nurse bringing healing to many people. Maybe you are a teacher inspiring our youth to find their own purpose in life.
For most of us, however, our life’s purpose is much simpler, though still as important. Maybe today you encouraged one person who will go on to encourage others. Maybe today you were a parent who nurtured your children and got them through a tough time. Maybe today you held the hand of an elderly parent who needed you there so desperately. Maybe you helped a neighbor or fixed a pipe or drove the bus that got hundreds of people to work.
I truly believe that every life matters. Every person has a purpose. I also believe that not all of us know our full purpose in life. Have I greeted a person who would suffer later that day and need to remember my smile, but I never knew it? Did I encourage someone by my presence, and that person went on to make a life-changing decision because of my influence? Did a stranger see me living with a positive attitude and change their attitude? Did I place a seed of hope in someone’s heart?
Many strangers have touched my life--people I can never go back and thank because I don’t know them. People have said hello in passing when I desperately needed a positive voice. People have shared a table with me without knowing how much that hospitality meant. I hope we all see the importance of the roles we have in life, but I hope we all also remember that we touch more lives than we will ever realize when we live as fully and as hopefully as we are able to.
It’s your life…live it well.
What was your purpose for living yesterday, last month, last year? Can you put that in words? If you write this statement of life purpose frequently, you might see that your perspective changes from time to time. You may feel that your life’s purpose has shifted through the years.
I agree with Mr. Jagoe that writing a statement can bring focus into your life. This is true of all people. We can see the significance of our existence. There is someone that we love, that we inspire, that we nurture or that we encourage. Our life’s purpose may be related to our career. Maybe you are the person leading us one step closer to a medical or scientific breakthrough. Maybe you are the writer that will inspire thousands by your words and change a generation. Maybe you are a politician that will bring much needed changes to a nation. Maybe you are a doctor or nurse bringing healing to many people. Maybe you are a teacher inspiring our youth to find their own purpose in life.
For most of us, however, our life’s purpose is much simpler, though still as important. Maybe today you encouraged one person who will go on to encourage others. Maybe today you were a parent who nurtured your children and got them through a tough time. Maybe today you held the hand of an elderly parent who needed you there so desperately. Maybe you helped a neighbor or fixed a pipe or drove the bus that got hundreds of people to work.
I truly believe that every life matters. Every person has a purpose. I also believe that not all of us know our full purpose in life. Have I greeted a person who would suffer later that day and need to remember my smile, but I never knew it? Did I encourage someone by my presence, and that person went on to make a life-changing decision because of my influence? Did a stranger see me living with a positive attitude and change their attitude? Did I place a seed of hope in someone’s heart?
Many strangers have touched my life--people I can never go back and thank because I don’t know them. People have said hello in passing when I desperately needed a positive voice. People have shared a table with me without knowing how much that hospitality meant. I hope we all see the importance of the roles we have in life, but I hope we all also remember that we touch more lives than we will ever realize when we live as fully and as hopefully as we are able to.
It’s your life…live it well.
April 4, 2016
Writer’s Block and Art
When writing about local artist Michelle East for a newspaper article, I remembered how many times I broke through my writer’s block with the help of art. It started with an art appreciation class that I took at Memphis State University (now University of Memphis). I had never studied much classical art--or modern art either, for that matter. A graduate student taught the class which was geared towards non-art majors picking up optional credits.
One week, I had two writing assignments due in other classes. I also had to tour a local gallery and answer a few questions about certain pieces of art selected by the professor. I tried to finish my writing assignments first, not wanting to get behind in any classes in my major. I took paper and pen to my quiet work space and to the backyard. I tried writing in the library and in the student center. No words appeared at all.
I gave up and headed to the art gallery. I answered the required questions in front of a colorful painting full of waterfalls and birds and foliage and wildlife. My mind started dreaming up scenarios in which photographers explored the area or conservationists preserved the scene. I wondered what sat just out of view of the canvas.
I took out my paper and jotted down notes about adventurers and writers and photographers. The ideas from this one painting seemed endless. While in the gallery, I decided to write a few notes for my upcoming papers. Ideas for those topics began to flow easily.
Later, when I attended Candler School of Theology at Emory University to work on my M. Div., I rode the MARTA rails to the area of the High Museum of Art, especially on afternoons when I could get in free. I worked on my hardest papers in front of paintings, sculptures or photography. The art opened my mind. It released the words again. Creativity inspired creativity. It still works for me.
Be inspired by the works of others…
One week, I had two writing assignments due in other classes. I also had to tour a local gallery and answer a few questions about certain pieces of art selected by the professor. I tried to finish my writing assignments first, not wanting to get behind in any classes in my major. I took paper and pen to my quiet work space and to the backyard. I tried writing in the library and in the student center. No words appeared at all.
I gave up and headed to the art gallery. I answered the required questions in front of a colorful painting full of waterfalls and birds and foliage and wildlife. My mind started dreaming up scenarios in which photographers explored the area or conservationists preserved the scene. I wondered what sat just out of view of the canvas.
I took out my paper and jotted down notes about adventurers and writers and photographers. The ideas from this one painting seemed endless. While in the gallery, I decided to write a few notes for my upcoming papers. Ideas for those topics began to flow easily.
Later, when I attended Candler School of Theology at Emory University to work on my M. Div., I rode the MARTA rails to the area of the High Museum of Art, especially on afternoons when I could get in free. I worked on my hardest papers in front of paintings, sculptures or photography. The art opened my mind. It released the words again. Creativity inspired creativity. It still works for me.
Be inspired by the works of others…
