Chapter Six: Who I Am

The man takes a breath, and I stare intently. He sighs, and I follow his gaze, which he’s directed towards the roiling waters.

“John,” he says, as if he’s known me his whole life. “Are you sure you want to know this?”

I hesitate. My mind plays a slideshow of myself, graying over the years, and my soul crumbling due to the unbearable burden of knowledge. I also see the shadow of life, a hope uncertain, but tantalizing. Something inside me is drawn to it.

“Yes,” I reply confidently.

“I’ve already told you that you’re meant to help others. You could notice this in the way you’d pretend to be a firefighter as a kid. You’re mother later discouraged you from that.”

He pauses, allowing me to remember, and I nod as I do.

“Your current job reflects your helpful personality. You work with an insurance company: a company that, supposedly, helps people when they’re in need. The only reason that this insurance thing keeps coming up, John, isn’t that it’s bad, but that you’re doing it for the wrong reasons! You do it for monetary security rather than the benefit of others. You do it for your own benefit, and that’s why you’re not doing what you want to.”

I consume his points, chewing each one before digesting it. I realize I’ve always known, subconsciously, that my personality and nature was to help others, and I wonder if that’s all he has to say.

“I know,” I say, hoping to evoke some sort of further explanation.

“Then why do you continue to do this? Why do you continue to be what your not?”

I know he isn’t angry, but I am still afraid of him. Just like I am with any other person who asks a question I can’t answer.

“I don’t know,” I mumble shakily.

“Know this,” he says. “You are better than this. You were once an adventurous person! You were bold and daring! You took chances! Do you remember the first investment you made? You invested in your brother’s cookie stand. That ramshackle cardboard box, with those awful Oreo knockoff cookies. No one else encouraged him, they told him he couldn’t do it. You knew he could do it. Do you remember how satisfying it was to reap the benefits? You’re an entrepreneur! You’re an artist in many forms! You are a great–ah, what do they call it?–humanitarian! You help those in need, and you have talents that you can use to help them even more! You are a helper. And you need to help.”

My breath comes short and quick, I am slightly taken aback at the answer he gave. My adult life has been spent making safe choices that are sure to stay neutral. I know I only invest, wether monetarily or otherwise, in things that will neither rise nor fall. My world is spinning, yet I have no one to blame. I invited this upon myself. I asked my question. I received my answer.

“Now, John,” he says. “You know now that you’re meant for something different. You’re meant to live outside of the normal comfort zone. You’re meant to be wild, to live life to the full, and to trust that you won’t fall.”

I nod.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he continues. “This is no invitation to jump off mountains and expect to live. This doesn’t meant that you have special favor with God. What it does mean is that whatever happens, God is planning it, for your benefit.”

I nod again, recognizing his point.

“Now, do you accept the challenge? The challenge to do what you’re meant to do? Will you take chances, because you have nothing to lose? Will you believe in others because you trust that your God will catch you when you fall, and lead you when you are lost?”

I stare into the mans eyes. I see them clearly now. I recognize the man. His eyes twinkle, acknowledging my recognition. The deep eyes are too colorful for my own eyes, and so deep I feel as though I’m drowning. I do not struggle, I just stare.

“You’re on,” I say.