Man on AutoPilot

This is your captain speaking. We will be cruising at a comfortable 35,000 feet for the duration of your trip, so sit back, relax, and enjoy your life on autopilot.

If you're a man in your mid-forties (sorry, ladies), I'm talking to you. You've got a great family; everyone is healthy and happy. Your marriage is excellent; you even make love every once in a while. You drive a nice car, have little to no debt outside of your mortgage, and take a few vacations every year. On the surface, there's minimal, if anything, to complain about. And why should there be? You've got a few hobbies. Sometimes, you play golf; you love to cook, play pick-up ball, hunt, fish, and watch your teams play. Life, as far as everyone would guess, is perfect. You! Yes, you have the perfect life.

Then why do you feel empty inside? I've been contemplating this lately because, outside of everything that catalogs under perfection, you're not exactly sure what you do other than the routine; of course, because of that, you have. The routine is what you do and, for as long as you can remember, not much else.

You put money in the bank account; maybe you mow the lawn, do the dishes, take out the trash, fix a few things when you can around the house, try to let the dog in and out, drive the kids to and from practice, get worked up about their playing time during their games and never say anything, run your business, organize the garage, shop for things you don't need, fight with strangers about politics, go to church, read the business books, make love to your wife once in a while, watch your teams win or lose, play fantasy football, occasionally go to a show, or have a night out, and then every once in a while you end up on the phone, way too late at night, or right in the middle of something you're supposed to be doing, reminiscing with an old friend about the way life used to be and wonder what happened to you.

Because now, in your mid-forties, everything seems to hurt more: your knees or back, your hair seems thinner (if you've managed to hang onto it), and you're gaining weight. Aside from your aching body, which you've seemed to be ok with letting go, you're looking forward to something that's too far out to be excited about while simultaneously worrying about money, thinking to yourself you're closer to dying than you were to being born—and then it hits you.

What is my purpose?

Am I supposed to pay bills and then die?

Am I supposed to forego everything I thought I wanted for the sake of someone else's needs?

As men, isn't that what we're programmed to believe? Isn't that what society tells us to do?

We are selfless, strong, and leaders. It's our responsibility to take on the suffering of others, and if they are not suffering, our lives are defined by preventing them from experiencing it. We should live our lives according to someone's standards and never say a word out of the inconvenience it would be to disrupt the routine we've become so accustomed to.

This is your captain speaking again—just a friendly reminder to put your trust in the Lord.

I can picture the Warden from Shawshank delivering those words to us and the disappointment from judging eyes as I respond with a request to "just for once, just this time, can we remove the "Faith in God-Spread the Good News" or live for the betterment of our kids' purposes? Let's not pretend like we don't already know that purpose because, of course, we love our kids, and at least for me, of course, I love Jesus, but that's not what this is about.

It's about taking a deeper dive into what we feel called to do. Not to sound too brash, but seriously and thoughtfully answering the question of "why are we here?"

We all have the voices in our head reassuring us what we're supposed to believe, and those voices for me are saying, "You have it all," and "Why can't what you have been good enough?" Well, I must be one of the crazy people because I can remember someone else saying to me, "The two most important days in a person's life are the day you were born and the day you find out why."

I also recall someone else saying (I think I read it somewhere), "You only live once," which was quickly corrected, "No, you only die once; you live every day."??

So, what are we supposed to do with ourselves? If everything in your life has happened for a reason, which I believe it has, what is that reason?

I love God, my faith defines who I am, and I love my two kids, my wife of 19 years, and our little dog unconditionally, but lately, I haven't loved myself. And before you get carried away, thinking I'm depressed, ask yourself if you're not first before you go judging me, and let's stop with the "Is Derek all right shit?"

Yes, I'm fine. Nothing is going to happen; I'm not going to harm myself, and nothing terrible is going to happen. I'm writing this because I'm not alone. I know I'm not. I'm just one of the few willing to say how I feel about things, and if you're going through a similar experience, I'd be willing to bet everything I have you're thinking it. In fact, I would bet my net worth (Which isn't much) that if we took an honest poll (that means you can't lie), what your purpose is outside of your family and faith, you would either not be able to answer or would desperately want to know.

For those of us answering this poll, this little, albeit brief, moment of honesty would likely be immediately followed up with our need to provide a sufficient answer as a means to make us appear to have it figured out.

But again, you know that's not true because none of us do—we have it figured out.

Tonight, after work, you're barely going to have time to change out of your work clothes, rush to your kid's game, pray they play well, and probably get mad about something you have no control over or that, in the grand scheme of things doesn't matter, scramble to scrounge up dinner, watch a little tv, take out the trash, fall asleep on the couch watching Thursday Night Football only to wake up again tomorrow and hit the repeat button like it's the fricking sequel to Groundhog's Day.

Is it time to accept that your life didn't turn out the way you wanted it to, or is it time to make a change? Either way, you're not going to do anything.

Remember, you're a selfless man, and it's a lot easier to disappoint yourself in private than it would ever be to disappoint someone that you love, even if you were being honest.

There's no real clever ending here, no ten-step program to fixing your life or finding your purpose, and this isn't to debunk those people out there who can help you find it; it is, however, about proving to yourself that no matter how alone you might feel on your island, that you're not in fact alone.

This is your captain speaking with a reminder that "you're going to be ok."

Need someone to talk to who's not pretending to have it all figured out? I'm not going to sell you anything.

Derek