What's the purpose?

Scam or sign? You be the judge.

Maybe it was a scam, but it gave me a jolt anyway. A defibrillator right to the higher consciousness. Every single thing about the experience I just had with two random men on the street felt easy. Transcendent. Fated. Dare I say purposeful?

If you've also bought into the idea that the human experience is just one big series of events, lessons, and clues meant to lead you to a higher consciousness, then you can get behind the woo-woo of what I'm about to say.

Let me explain

If there is one thing that truly boggles me, the thing that keeps me up at night, the question I ask every psychic, astrologer or mystical seer of any kind is, "What's my purpose?" It's the intention I went in with when I did that ketamine therapy session that one time. I'm convinced that we all have one and that mine is much bigger than writing Instagram captions for brands. It pays the bills, but what's gonna feed my soul? I think about this a lot. Especially on solo walks.

I'm a freelancer. I'm between gigs at the moment, and I have a lot of free time to go outside and get some steps in, which I tend to do. Often. Especially if the weather hits anywhere between 40 and 70 degrees.

This particular afternoon is crisp. The sun is glittering in the sky. I grab a jacket, preparing for the long walk ahead. A new Psychopedia episode just dropped, and I love a good true-crime trek through the neighborhood. I grab a coffee to choke down the privilege I feel to be able to live this life of leisure. How did I get so lucky? Feeling grateful. Feeling good. Dare I say a pep in my step? I set the fitness tracker to "outdoor walk." Ready, set, go.

I like to look at people when I walk, partially to clock if they're a potential threat, partially to catch a smile, a wink, a glimpse of connection. It tethers me to my humanness, so much of which is lost behind a screen most days.

I catch this guy in a hoodie, smiling from ear to ear, flashing a badge with one hand and waving with the other.

My heart sinks. I want to help, I do. The people, the animals, the water, the bees, all of them. Of course! But I hate a sales pitch, and...I'm walking here! So I mouth "no thank you," smile, and wave as I speed past him. Suddenly, I can feel someone running towards me coming from behind. I stop, ready to elbow, poke, and grab a sack of nuts, when a different guy with the same demeanor—kind face, iPad, says,

"Excuse me, miss, you dropped something..."

"What?" I say firmly as I look to the street behind me.

"Your attention," (pa-dum-pum) he says with a rather disarming smile and goes right into his sales speech as his hoodie-wearing friend walks up to us. I notice the 'Children's International' insignia on their badge and iPads. There are a ton of people around. The sun is beaming. I decide it's safe to give these guys a few minutes of my time but lie and tell them I'm late to meet someone so we can make this quick. “You got me. I'll give the money, but let's move it along cuz I’m running late,” I say. I end up sponsoring a Guatemalan girl named Maria Jose.

Before I even finish the transaction, these two strangers and I are in a full-blown conversation with twists and turns I never would've expected. We're laughing, we're sharing, we're asking each other if we're OK. Checking in. They tell me their names: Javonte and Eon

Like "Neon," I say.

Like," That took eons and eons," he replies.

We decide our collective name would be Ivonte. We're fast friends.

When I asked Eon how he was doing, his face sank a little bit. "Do you like cats?" he asked. I felt see-through. How did he know? Honestly, if I look like a stereotypical “cat lady,” don’t tell me. I’d rather not know.

He begins to tell me the story of the kitten he and his girlfriend found in Macedonia while traveling together. I tell him about the Universal cat distribution system, which he seems unaware of but curious about. He shows me pictures on his phone of the cat Macey (short for Macedonia) in a harness perched on his shoulder and another where she's cooing, belly up, on the floor of his apartment. "Awww she's cute." I fawn. He then tells me Macey fell down with sudden seizures, and was taken to the vet. The girlfriend was living 4 hours away so she went back home to wait out Macey's vet visit and results while Eon was in America making money, about to return home to Albania that night to be with his girlfriend and finally tell her that Macey had died in the vet a week ago. His girlfriend didn't know and wasn't told by the vet because his girlfriend suffers from an anxiety condition that could cause seizures in her. He had waited a week to tell his girlfriend because she was alone out there. She loved this cat. And the storms in Albania were so bad she was already on the edge of her own anxiety. "The thunder is very loud there. You can feel it shake the earth," he added.

This story was very sad and convoluted, but I believed him. I believed his demeanor about it. His friend offered council, and so did I. He was worried how she would take it, would she hate him for not telling her when it happened a week ago or would she understand why he didn't tell her? He looked torn about it.

I said, "why would you tell her on the phone while she was alone, in a storm within a storm of her own? "

"That's the weed," I think about the poetry verse that had just inadvertently spewed out of my mouth.

He repeats that line and taps his temple. "Gonna remember that. Do you listen to Drej?"

I don't.

"He's a rapper who has a way with words too. You'd like him"

I give my two cents. I tell him he needs to be honest with her. Explain his true love and concern for her condition and wanting to be there when she found out their cat had died. I told him to brace himself for the possibility that her pain could turn to anger over his omission, but if his intentions were pure, she would eventually see that when the tears clear.

He thanked me for my counsel and told me my advice made sense, and the delivery was good and easily digestible (or something like that).

Suddenly, I could hear a chorus of voices in my head as a sort of humming, bells ringing. I didn't understand but knew attention must be paid to this moment. Especially the feeling I felt when he thanked me for my advice and said it actually helped him.

I got The same feeling when my friend recently opened up about issues she was having with her boyfriend and asked me for some advice. I gave it, and she also said something similar about appreciating my take on this matter and my takes in general.

They say your purpose becomes clear if you pay attention to what sparks you up. You feel it.

I left that street interaction with those two strangers/scammers/angels(?) on the street, lit UP like the Rockefeller Christmas Tree. Not as in drugs, but from within. Sparked.

Electric.

A thunderbolt that shook my earth.

Maybe my purpose falls somewhere between human connection and helping people simply by giving them my perspective on the matter.

Perhaps we should all try and tap into our intuition more and notice the sparks throughout our day that guide us one way or another…

It’s a start.

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Let’s test it. If you’re wrestling with something or need advice about anything—from mundane to life-altering—tell me in the comments, and let’s see if I can offer some words you can take or leave. I’m not a licensed therapist or social worker, just a stranger on the internet with some insight. What do you have to lose?