Dooley Noted: 2/4/2016
Early on in life, I committed myself to immense purpose.
I watched my parents work countless hours on and off the clock. So, work ethic was in my Dooley veins and in the behaviors set by those who raised me.
As I pursued education, my work ethic continued. It became unnecessary to build a life outside of my purpose.
I maintained the friendships of my past and visited them when the schedule permitted.
But the focus stayed on the purpose – and those who loved me to my core offered their absolute understanding.
But within that understanding came consistent reminders that I may have future trouble building a personal life – particularly a marriage and family.
So, I told myself at 18: “Anyone unwilling to walk alongside me is free to leave.”
And they did.
I had beautiful relationships in my past, and I learned much about human nature and connection. But they did, indeed, end.
It was confirmed for me that my patience for a well-suited partner would be needed.
My career – my life purpose – appeared to be a liability in my personal life.
In dark moments, my logical mind would chatter the following to my heart:
“You work 14-hour days on average.”
“You fly all over creation, teaching nearly every weekend.”
“You are constantly covered in chalk or embalming fluid.”
“Your idea of going to the bar is lifting with barbells at Catalyst.”
“You are not an ideal partner.”
But my heart is a muscle, reminding my brain of its strength.
My heart would reply:
“My purpose is not a liability.”
“I will wait for someone that champions my dedication to things I love.”
“He will not be deterred by chalk nor embalming fluid.”
“He will join me at the gym and in the lab.”
“He will travel the world with me and not desecrate my wanting to teach.”
My heart had a trust – a faith – a non-negotiable certainty that I would find him.
I focused on my muscle and let it overpower my logical mind.
And late last year – it won.
I met the love of my life, a man that knew what I knew soon after meeting me: that we were holding out all these years for one another.
People think we are getting married quickly.
In my eyes, 37 years of patience isn’t quick.
And when all the things you represent are no longer counted as liabilities, you know when you meet him.
It’s that simple.
Your purpose is not a liability.
Neither are your silly jokes, your late nights working, your intense travel schedule, your faint smell of embalming fluid, nor your chalk dusted on every pair of black pants you own.
In fact, all those liabilities will be attractants to the person that’s right for you.
Hold out.
Your purpose is not a liability.
As always, it’s your call.
– Dr. Kathy Dooley
