Watching the Weather in People
I’ve been watching people lately. Kind of like watching the weather. I’ve always observed people, but something has shifted recently that I haven’t yet found the language for. I move through the world with a camera in hand. This is relevant because it is how I noticed what I am about to tell you in this little blog. My camera seems to enhance my powers of observation. With my camera in hand, paying attention, and sometimes, when I’m sitting or walking among others, in crowds, at events, I feel like I am a ghost, seeing but unseen. Reminds me of the scene in the Movie Six Sense where the deceased husband has a new outlook on the world. I digress, to the point.
While I am within a space, I notice people arriving and leaving. Some people arrive looking and acting comfortable in their own skin. If they show comfort or discomfort, it's generally with the eb or flood of their purpose. This is sort of my conclusion.
While others seem to be managing something: a phone, a role, an audience, another unseen version of themselves. Who knows? I will call these people performers rather than those with purpose. ( I got the Terms from Michael Garvias. How I discovered Michael Garvias is another story.) The performers carry a theater with different themes than the room in which we stand. The performer pilots a subtle search, negotiation, or probing for direction. You can hear it in how they talk, respond, seek justification, and ask for justification, “right?” Whereas the one with purpose seems, simply, present.
I see it in myself, too. There are days when I’m trying to arrive, days when I’m there, and days when I never show up. And of course, sometimes we all have to perform to survive a room. That’s human. But performance only carries us so far. Eventually, survival points us toward purpose. What is my purpose? This is an age-old question. When moving with purpose, it shows in interactions, in odd pauses at the spark of an idea, in focus on thoughtful sentences, and in a familiar, comfortable silence.
People with purpose don’t offer the room anything to applaud. From what I have observed, mostly in myself because I cannot read minds yet, they sometimes sound awkward or unfinished due to an unconscious bias about their intimacy to their purpose. Despite the awkward edge, they do come back around and generally carry a steady stream of conversation. Even though it's in their own head. So, I am taking my time now to listen for that difference in those who perform and those with purpose. I think now that I have heard passion and purpose, it’s hard to unhear. And I’m curious: have you noticed it too? The next time someone — or you — says something a little awkward, a little unpolished, maybe that’s not confusion. Perhaps that’s what purpose sounds like in the midst of its journey of discovery.
