I always come up blank when I question the purpose of life, and I’ve watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” plenty of times to understand that it’s supposed to be the culmination of the little things we do, what we say, and how we act that give us meaning. When I was young, I was convinced I was put on this Earth to play and party, and I thoroughly nailed it. As I got older, I figured out the purpose was probably more complex than that, and I searched for the meaning of life like an earnest cast member of Monty Python. Giving my life deep meaning and connection has become my holy grail, and I hope to find out what life is really all about before I forget how to tie my own shoes.I had no idea what I was looking for in my teens and early 20s. I was a sensitive college graduate with an expensive degree and nowhere to go. I spouted authority on everything and deep knowledge about nothing, often quoting the philosopher Nietzsche as I danced around life looking insane to those that couldn’t hear my music.Without empathy to ground me, I wandered happily for a few years navigating my place in the world through skiing, traveling and exercising. I was self-centered and quite good at it. I lived easily with an income that paid for my hedonistic lifestyle. The physical world kept my ego busy, giving me much needed value and validation. I believed I found life’s meaning and didn’t know that as I got older my ability to think abstractly and critically would find ways to disrupt my “doing” sense of self.To the relief of the people around me, the blinders I wore in my early 20s faded. I began coaching a youth soccer team in town and learned what “being a volunteer” meant financially. I voted in a local election for the first time even though I was still skeptical that my vote didn’t matter. As I became aware of my surroundings, my overactive ego didn’t want to compete as fiercely anymore. I cared for things other than myself and the feelings for those I loved fell into step. I even dipped my toe back into religion, which allowed my grandmother to go to her grave believing she helped raise a devoted, Jewish granddaughter. I was winning at the bright side of life and thought I could see the big picture. For a long time, I found my calling as a public school teacher. The long hours, stressful special education meetings, and the constant pushing for increased equity and inclusion gave me a sense of fulfillment I had never experienced before. I was in a constant state of exhaustion but enjoyed being in the classroom forging strong relationships with the children and the community. I loved being part of something larger than myself and I knew my work mattered. I thought I could feel the big picture. Then I went and had children of my own.My world shrunk overnight when I left the classroom. My priorities shifted as I stayed at home for a few years to raise three little ones. I didn’t see past the four walls of my home for a very long time. Depression, wrinkles and saggy body parts took over and I struggled to see the light. I was going through the motions modeling the behavior of parents who were crushing it, and then devoted myself to fully embrace how to raise my children in a similar way. I gained a profound appreciation for the hard work it takes to put caring, well-rounded humans into the world and couldn’t have done it without the village that shepherded me along the way. I thought I caught a glimpse of life’s meaning.For many years, I snuffed the needs of my professional aspirations while raising children that had growing needs of their own. I wanted desperately to get back out into the world and find purpose outside my own family but couldn’t find a way to manage it all without guilt and feelings of inadequacy. I was falling into the abyss of my own unrealistic making.Eventually, I found a modest career that gave me a lifeline to the outside world. Nurturing coworkers and a reassuring boss told me that I could balance a career with school plays, parent-teacher conferences, doctor appointments, and the many lacrosse tournaments I wanted to attend. Their knowledge of how to prioritize work and home had a profound effect on my identity and allowed me to feel fulfillment beyond motherhood. Life was becoming clearer still, and many mentors had answers to questions I didn’t know existed. I was beginning to think about the big picture.Then one evening I lay awake all sweaty while the meaning of my time here on Earth cast a shadow over me once again. I bolted upright because I was in no mood for another existential crisis. However, with stability in my life and experience by my side, I stumbled upon some answers. Life is about the connections we make and the relationships we nurture. Looking back, I can thread together people in my life who have made an impact, and helped me become the person I am today. This makes me feel closer to whole than I’ve ever felt before. I eventually turned off my bedroom light and fluffed my pillow just right. I put the quest to find my spiritual holy grail to bed and remembered a quote from Kierkegaard, the father of existentialism. “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” Maybe I’m beginning to understand what life is all about while I can still lean over and tie my own shoes.Andrea Chacos writes from Carbondale, Colorado. The post Searching for my spiritual holy grail appeared first on Park Record.