Past Issue, May 1 Issue - Fulfillment

Posted on May 12, 2007
Filed Under Past Issues |

To the Letter of the Law by Nicole Walters

Nicole is a bargain shopper who finds cute clothes, a lover of hair dye, and enjoying fulfillment . . . this five minutes.

Picture this: Lima, Peru, nearly two years ago. There I stood before an audience of around 1,000 people, nervous. The guitar began to play, my heart began to race, and I began to sing. “Ora Por Mi.” It marked the first time I ever sang that song, one I’d written years before in English, in Spanish.

A veces me pregunto, cuan grande es mi fe. Por qué tus bendiciones, no puedo ver . . .

After a full, hot day of serving the people in this little, forgotten barrio it was time to start a night, a long night, of worship. How on earth am I going to do this? I was suddenly less sure of my Spanish, suddenly overwhelmed by the realization of exactly HOW tired I was, and suddenly buckling beneath the weight of the personal magnitude of this moment . . . I’m in Peru, on a mission trip, about to sing to people I know nothing about and who know nothing about me. I don’t know their challenges. I don’t know their joys. What am I doing here?

But the guitar strings had been strummed and there was no turning back now.

Si tristeza y dolor entran en mi Corazón. Me siento al borde de un mar, cuyas aguas no abrirán . . .

In that moment of utter intimidation, my dependency upon God became abundantly clear, as did my understanding that the moment I was experiencing connecting with my Peruvian brothers and sisters was far bigger than just me and transcended the differences that mocked between us. As I continued singing, I noticed the people beginning to lift their hands in worship while tears streamed down their faces. By the time the song was over, the stadium erupted in cheering, praising, crying, and unity. I stood there, or rather nearly fainted there, in a wave of awe. Not of me (by any means) but of God. Still today, I marvel that I was a part of that. It was an extreme moment of fulfillment that I won’t soon forget.

Anymore than the long, affirming embrace I shared with my husband in our hotel room at the Ritz Carlton in Cancun as we took in the brilliance of the ocean from our balcony in celebration of our 20 years of marriage. Or the time on my birthday when, instead of presents, I asked that my friends and family write me letters and, from my oldest son Ryan I read, “I also thank you for the kind of man you have made me . . . I am a follower of Jesus Christ because of you and so is Cole, and so is Dad, and so are many others . . .” and from my youngest son Cole that “no amount of filled pages can tell you all that is good about you. The way you always have advice for whatever situation I’m in, your God-like answers to most questions I have influence me more than you know.” Or when, in a meeting at work to review some marketing copy I wrote, my supervisor said, “Oh, I love that line.” Or, the time when . . . you get the picture.

Fulfillment 101

Fulfillment. What is it anyway? And, for as great as it feels, why isn’t it constant, permanent, or perpetual? Or is it? Yeah. I don’t know the answers to those questions . . . but the pursuit of them sent me back to the basics: the dictionary.

Fulfill:

1. Transitive verb - achieve something: to do what is necessary to bring about or achieve something expected, desired, or promised.

2. Transitive verb - carry out order: to do what is necessary to carry out a request or command.

3. Transitive verb - satisfy something: to be good enough or of the type necessary to meet a standard or requirement.

4. Transitive verb - complete something: to do what is necessary to complete or bring something to an end.

5. Transitive verb - supply something: to supply the full amount of something ordered.

6. Fulfill yourself, verb root - realize ambitions: to feel satisfied with what you are doing or realize your expectations or ambitions.

Given the above definitions the spiritual application is obvious and, really, nothing further is needed for this article . . . but I simply can’t help myself. Forgive me as I indulge my proclivity toward verbosity, but this article has invited me to discover what is, for me, a new understanding about fulfillment and how we “create” it in partnership with God when we, gulp, fulfill His, gulp, law.

Matthew 28: 19, 20:
Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.

I went to Peru in the spirit of, well, carrying out the mandate, the order, the law of the great commission. “Go.” So, I went. And going led me outside of my comfort zone, away from my family, beyond my language fluency, and into a level of (and here’s the word I really don’t like to use) obedience in an area of my life where I don’t typically practice a lot of it. I mean, it’s not everyday that I find myself on a plane bound for some foreign land without vacationing as the goal. But by choosing obedience and walking in some measure of fulfillment of Jesus’ command, I have to say that I felt and experienced a level of personal fulfillment within me that took my breath away. And because of that, for the 4 minutes and 35 some odd seconds of that song, all the questions about my life’s purpose were silenced and I reveled in the glorious convergence of all things good . . . for 4 minutes and 35 some odd seconds any way. Obedience. Fulfillment. It’s like 2+2=4, right? At least, I think it works that way. I fulfill a call, an obligation, a promise, an order and, as the result, I receive the benefit of fulfillment itself, as defined by a sense of satisfaction, accomplishment, and inclusion in what God is doing in the world.

Admittedly, the Peru moment took place on a grand platform and under some pretty extraordinary circumstances. Again, I’m NOT a missionary, so a mission trip for me is a pretty big deal. But caution is necessary here unless I’m foolish enough to dismiss the possibility of “fulfillment” as limited to the “exceptional” and beyond our every day and commonplace lives. Nothing could be further from the truth.

We are, moment-by-moment, belief-by-belief, action-by-action, constantly in the process of the process of fulfillment. Let’s take my moment in Cancun with my sweetie for example. That was the culmination or embodiment of the fulfillment of 20 years of marriage and the celebration inherent therein. Just us – embracing, the sea breeze on our faces, and love in our hearts. Yeah, that moment of fulfillment comes from my husband and I, at every opportunity, and decision-by-decision (yep, you guessed it – here’s that word again!) obeying our call, our obligation, our promise, our order within our marriage covenant. Little, everyday, unobserved, and unacknowledged acts of fulfilling the “law” of our marriage vows produces the overflow of fulfillment, the kind that gives the warm and fuzzies, that sometimes looks like the Ritz in Cancun and at others spooning in a warm bed on a Saturday morning with absolutely nothing better or more important to do.

And with regards to the birthday sentiments given me by my children, or the compliment paid me by my supervisor . . . fulfillment being fulfilled. I practice obedience as a mom – I love, I instruct, I provide, I protect, I avail – my boys respond in ways that make my heart skip a beat and get excited for the wives they’ll love in like manner later on in their lives. I show up and give my talents to my job and I get the pat on the back. It’s simple really and comes down to what could amount to a relatively obscure verse in the Bible.

The Law of Love, Love is the Law

John 14: 5 “If you love Me, keep My commandments.” Simple. If you love God, do what He says . . . in your marriage, your friendships, your mind, on your job, in your ministry, through your talents, regarding your children, by yourself. Sacrificially, be kind, be patience, be truthful, be joyful, have faith, do good, do God, and do what He requires.

And, what are His requirements, His commandments? To love Him with all of your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself. Again, sacrificially, be humble, esteem others, serve, nurture, believe, hope, endure, forgive . . . in the name and consistent with the character of the One who is Himself love.

And, the all-important question that I personally need answered on a daily basis, why? Because since love is the fulfillment of the “law” by obeying the law, we experience, well, more love. More obedience, more love, more fulfillment, more obedience, more love, more fulfillment, more obedience, more love, more fulfillment. I don’t know how I didn’t see this before. I thank goodness for My Goodness and, frankly, what this magazine has personally meant to me. My creation of this online community is an act of obedience with me responding to what I heard God say within my heart. I love that this magazine has caused me to discover, learn, and experience more of God and more of His love. It has given me yet another area of fulfillment in my life. More obedience, more love, more fulfillment. I get it.

It’s not always easy to obey, for a lot of reasons. Sometimes I simply don’t know the “right” thing to do. God, for me, can be hard to get, hard to hear, and hard to understand, which leaves me relying upon my own limited and flawed devices. Other times, I simply put myself on the throne of my heart and place God in the position of second, third, or worse. It’s what is true . . . sometimes. But, most of the time, I want to obey. I love that inner “well done” I hear when I’ve suspended Nicole and put on Jesus instead. I have, in my 38 years, found God and His law trustworthy, faithful, and good. And that truth beautifully fills me up to overflowing and makes me wanna be a good girl and avoid time out. Time out stinks.

Peace and Blessings,

Nicole Walters

Nicole

Honest To Goodness Truth:

Philippians 2: 13 - For it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.

Is there any area of your life where you are experiencing what you perceive is the lack of fulfillment? Is there also any disobedience or resistance to what God is saying to you in that same area? Why? What are you afraid of should you surrender to what the Holy Spirit is saying to you? Share with your sisters here your thoughts, convictions, and determination. We are waiting to hear.

I pray an abundance of fulfillment, for you and me as we seek to experience a greater presence of God in our lives.

Because Somebody Prayed by Monique Ruffin-James

Monique is writer, a public speaker, an expert multi-tasker, a pray-er, and anxiously awaiting Whitney Houston’s come back album.

Fulfillment. Honestly I don’t know where to begin, so I’ll just begin with the truth. When writing these articles it usually helps if I can pull from something real – something I possess within myself. But, here we are on our third edition, and well . . . I’m stumped. I don’t own this thing we’re calling “fulfillment”. Or, that’s how I feel lately. Now wait, let me explain. There are areas in my life where I am fulfilled, places where I am really excited about being me and living this life at this particular time. If I had to guess, I’d say the transformation from me, to me with child, has me feeling like Elmer Fudd after Bugs Bunny has just put a whammy on him?&*$%!@! Some days I’m overwhelmed, unsure, insecure and downright scared. Thank God for my girls! They rescue me from the scary places in my mind. In those scary moments, they remind me that my whole life has changed and then they pray and assure me that it will get easier. And my husband, he is so very loving. He sees in me what he missed in his own mother. As I consider my life now, I’m fulfilled parenting with Lee.

Our individual journeys to this place were nothing short of obstacle courses. We were both raised by our respective grandparents because our birth parents were not responsible, conscious, or mature . . . or maybe it was Divinely designed that way, at least that’s what Lee believes. He often says my mother birthed me for my grandmother; I came here to be with her, to get what only she could give, and then go into the world and share her wisdom. I believe he’s right. Growing up with my grandmother, I often felt like I was a burden, as if I was imposing in some way. These feelings were in no way connected to anything my grandmother said or did, it was just something within me, a feeling of not belonging. In my many conversations with Lee, he shares the same feelings, like he didn’t always belong. Again, it was nothing his grandfather said or did, but it was there. Lee was 14 when his grandfather died. His grandfather’s wife immediately changed the locks to their home, leaving Lee to care for himself. The longing we shared to feel like a part of a family is fulfilled by our present family union.

Yesterday’s Legacy Today

Fast forward 20 years: Lee is a social worker, meeting the needs of children and families in crisis. He is dedicated and passionate about his work. He knows what it’s like to be a young boy in the system, hoping for a family to love you unconditionally. And I’m doing exactly what my grandmother taught and encouraged in me; inspiring more goodness in this world one woman at a time. When I was a little girl, I’d promise my grandmother I was going to repay her for what she’d done for me. Every time she’d respond “don’t give back, pay it forward. You don’t owe me anything.”

My life is the fulfillment of my grandmother’s prayers. I have inherited her freedom, her love for God, her creativity, and her courage. It is because of what she gave me and how I choose to express it that I am me. This is true for each of us. Someone prayed for you. It may have been a parent, teacher, babysitter, sibling or grandparent, but somebody, somewhere prayed for you. Maybe it was ancestors generations ago, working in the fields under the hot southern sun or concealing a pregnancy due to rape who prayed for you. Their prayers may have been for their children and their children’s children to be free to live the lives they’d desire. We are the fulfillment of our ancestor’s prayers, hopes and dreams.

It gives me chills when I glimpse the sacrifice given. The life I’m living today with Lee and our son Zion is made sacred by those who gave so much.

Consider your life and the people who loved you, dreamed about you and prayed for you. There may be those who come to mind right away or you may not even personally know them, but because you live, breathe, walk and dream yourself proves that you are the fulfillment of someone’s sacrifice. You are the answer to someone’s prayer.

Living With More In Mind

Is your life the fulfillment of Christ’s sacrifice? He died and resurrected so that you/we may have life and have it more abundantly. Are you living abundance or lack? Are your thoughts and actions directed toward what is good, plentiful, beautiful, loving, truthful and life giving? Or do you focus on not having enough, not being enough, fault finding and why me? Your life is an extension of generations before you and those who will follow. And the way you choose to use it will affect everyone, everywhere. Who would we be without the fierce courage of a Harriet Tubman? Your freedom is the fulfillment of the numerous journeys she made from the south to the north, under life threatening conditions. No one exists inside a bubble, we are all connected. It is within you to realize the blessings and the power of Christ, through prayer, belief and deed.

Sit still; ask yourself how your life can become the fulfillment of the prayers, hopes and sacrifices that were made by those who blazed the trails? Are you willing to be the difference you desire in the world as Gandhi urged? What is your sacrifice, your prayer, your dream?

I believe we feel/sense a greater level of fulfillment when we are fulfilling our purpose on this planet. Fulfillment of our purpose and feeling fulfilled are directly connected. And the path to fulfillment is discovered within our deep and intimate communion with the Spirit of God. Courting the presence of God without ceasing will lead to realization of your connection with God. To some, including me, this may seem unrealistic or unattainable at times. I believe that many of us think God is found through religious doctrines and rhetoric, but God is truly and absolutely discovered within our hearts and our souls. If we move from one experience to the next believing our happiness, our joy, can be found in another person, money or a career we will surely be led to disappointment. When we become tired of being sick and tired, No More Drama as Mary J. sings - we will begin seeking God within our hearts. The key to our fulfillment can only be discovered on the inward journey.

Filling Your Own Cup

Writing this article, there is one thing very apparent, the paths to fulfillment are as unique and varied as each human being’s inner calling; no one knows or hears the call but you, usually. Our histories, gifts and talents, personalities and spiritual practices and beliefs contribute greatly to our fulfillment. How do we become or live fulfilled? Do what brings you closer to God. Maybe that’s accomplished through prayer, journaling, music, working, or being with children or animals. Whatever makes your heart swell with joy - do that! Notice you may feel more alive and connected to everything and everyone. Compassion will begin oozing from your pores.

As I complete this article with my son Zion just two inches away, kicking, breathing and swinging his arms uncontrollably, I know I am fulfilling my prayers and those of my ancestors, which include my grandma and mother. What I/we offer today is made sacred, is set apart, and lifted up by the lives, hopes and dreams that were sacrificed by those who traveled this journey before us. It is our duty to live fulfilled, otherwise our children may inherit our heartache, desperation and mediocrity. Similarly, we can leave a legacy of love, fulfillment, authenticity and abundance, you choose.

Peace and Blessings,

Monique Ruffin-James

The Honest to Goodness Truth:

Proverbs 13:12
Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.

Langston Hughes has a poem titled A Dream Deferred. It asks the question what happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or Fester like a sore?

What is the result of an unfulfilled life, dream or purpose? What does it cost and who pays? Do you feel alive? Are you excited about your life? Do you believe your life impacts others in a loving way? Do you end most days feeling you’ve done your best? What are you waiting for? If you are not fulfilled, what would do you need to begin making changes now? Share with us what the Spirit share with you!

The Photograph by Tia Collier (a short fictional story of great magnitude!)

Tia is a creative genius, way too shy, and the funkiest dresser I know!

I found out yesterday that my great-grandmother was a prostitute. A streetwalker. A whore. On the stroll. I don’t know how I feel about the news yet. I sure can’t judge her, seeing as I’m a prostitute too.

I never knew until yesterday that these things could be hereditary, sneak into your blood and bind you to people long dead, people who suffered the same pain and doubt you do. I thought I was who I am because of me alone, because of my own crazy choices and my own insecurities, but when I saw the picture of my great grandmother, a tiny, black skinned woman with vacant eyes and coarse, short hair breaking off at the ends; when I saw the same look in her eyes that I see in the mirror every day, I understood for the first time that we aren’t just who we think we are, we are who the streets tells us we have to be.

My grandmother, my sweet, Jesus-loving grandmother who raised me, passed away two weeks ago. She was all I had. I would love to say I took care of her when the cancer began to take over her body, when she was reduced to sweat and piss and pain, but I can’t lie like that. Truth be told, I ran from her and her death march. I ran back to the place where I feel the most comfortable in misery. I ran back to Colfax, East Colfax with its women like me talking themselves into believing this is what’s meant for us, talking themselves into believing we’ve made a good choice because “we got to get that money”. Disconsolate souls who’ve been through just as much as I have or more, our self-inflicted wounds exposed unashamedly to everyone around us with a comfort and ease that could only be born of a disregard for the spirit inside. I’m in my element on these streets. I’ve been here so long, I don’t know where else to be.

But when my Aunt Flo called me a month ago and told me my grandmother was dying, lying in some nursing home, barely able to talk, eat or recognize her people; ladies from the church missionary society, her pastor or friends she’d known since her girlhood in Arkansas, my whole world turned upside down. Suddenly the life I had chosen for myself, the scattered pieces of my hell I believed would be my blanket, my breath and steps, didn’t feel all that safe anymore. The familiarity I always felt with men who wanted me for my body, for what was between my legs, didn’t feel like a compliment anymore but a curse.

But, don’t get excited. I didn’t have no epiphany that saved my soul. I didn’t go running back to my grandmother or back to God with tears running down my face and redemption in my heart. I, instead, ran and got myself a drink. Went to the bar and talked and laughed with old men and broken down women with pock-marked skin, too much makeup and eyes the color of spoiled milk and steaming piss. I allowed those same men, old enough to be my grandfather, to inch rough, cracked hands slowly up my thigh until I stopped them and told them they’d have to pay good money for that. In other words, I numbed myself to the incompleteness I felt working its’ way up my spine like the fissure in Poe’s “The Fall of the House of Usher”. Don’t look like that; I can read.

Anyway, I started out telling you about my great-grandmother. Her name was Windsey Mae. Don’t ask me how old black folks came up with these crazy names, but it’s true, her name was Windsey. I came across her photograph when I was cleaning out my grandmother’s apartment. She had boxes and boxes of stuff, bible verses written down in volumes of notebooks, funeral announcements of every person she ever knew by the stacks and cracked, ancient photographs by the armful. You couldn’t help but sit there and look at them; old faces, young faces, babies long dead. I became fascinated by the faces grinning back at me. Young, black men with suits and ties on, fedoras tilted on the sides of their heads; laughing girls, with different hues of darkness, flirting to the camera, showing no signs of the tragedies, heartaches and struggles to come, showing no signs of the swollen ankles, arthritis or cancer which would slip them away from the sunny, joyful days youth frozen in the old black and white photographs I held in my hands.

In this pile of the long dead, I came across a photo that didn’t fit the rest. Windsey sat in a wooden chair, unsmiling like the thought of capturing her unease on film made her physically sick. Her eyes held the camera, though, as if saying, “Yeah, I know I’m beat down and tired, but here I am just the same.” Her hands were balled in fists on her lap, her body straight and rigid like she was expecting a blow and was preparing herself for the impact. She wore a rag of a dress, no stockings on, her bare feet looking like tiny rodents trying to burrow into the wooden floor boards under her soles. What struck me most were her eyes, wide and terrified and looking, I would imagine, like you would look if you saw the devil himself walking up to your porch. In other words, she looked like every woman I’d seen down on Colfax.

“Who’s this, Flo?” My aunt turned around from the fiftieth box of clothes she was packing and took the photo from my hands.

“That’s your great grandmother, Windsey. Don’t nobody talk about her much, doing what she did, but that’s her. She died a long time ago, back in 1928 or 29. She got sick and died soon after mama was born. They say the streets got her, just like they gonna get you if ain’t careful.” Flo went on to tell about how Windsey’s husband got killed in a race riot during the early twenties, and how she made it to Colorado by scrubbing floors and doing laundry, all the while trying to keep two babies alive with no one to help her. She finally made it to Colorado, settled in Five Points, and tried to rebuild her life, but the hard, cold winters and failing health left her little choice but to lie on her back and scratch a living out of her body. Just like all of us, it was too high of a price to pay, and she ended up getting sick and dying.

“The family always whispered about how shameful she was, being a prostitute and all, but I know for sure mama loved her and respected the sacrifices she made to try and keep her and her brothers alive. Almost like she gave up her soul just to make sure her kids could go on. Mama told me once you reminded her of her mama. Don’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.” Flo gave me one of her cold stares and turned back to what she was doing. She knew what I was and what I had been doing for the past ten years, but I had to believe she never told my grandmother. I needed the hope and faith and love my grandmother had in me, in spite of all my failures, to remain in my heart. I couldn’t stand the thought of my grandmother leaving this earth knowing that her grandbaby, the one she raised and sacrificed for, ended up walking down the crooked road her own mother had walked down. I couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing her. But the photograph in my hands told me my grandmother wasn’t a fool, and I knew in that moment that she knew about all the ugliness I tried so desperately to hide from her.

Bet you sitting there hoping I changed, ain’t you? Hoping this tale ends like some damn Hallmark movie where the broken woman finds peace and redemption in the end? Where all is forgiven and I walk into the dawning day with a new purpose a new hope, clear beautiful skin, silky hair and white, shinning teeth. I bet you’re sitting there praying that God came into my life and made me all better. I bet you’re hoping I found my way. Well, I don’t think so.

I am thinking, however, about what it takes to be whole, what it takes to love yourself after you’ve done all the bad things that I’ve done. And how, can anyone tell me, do you rebuild yourself after you’ve given all that you are away for nothing? How do you quit listening to the streets? How do you stop letting the streets define you? I don’t know the answer, but I start back with the things my grandmother taught me as a child; the Sunday school lessons and how to bake lemon cakes, the hot summer afternoons pulling mint from the garden to make sweet tea, the cha-cha sauce and quiet talks while sitting on the porch and watching the sun go down. I don’t know how to be what God intended me to be, but I do remember my grandmamma and her words whispered through the years and even beyond the grave.

“God sure do love you, child. Let Him fill you up, just like he filled me up…”

I can start there, perhaps.

Taffy Wallace is a woman of many talents and passions. From investing her time as a life coach privately and for corporations, to writing plays and acting, Taffy has dedicated her life’s work to the “enrichment of life through the creative medium.” Taffy’s love for both God and the arts has invited unique expressions for both, as seen in her soon to be released play, “Miracle At Seafood Bay.” Through playwriting, producing, acting, and life coaching, Taffy has found a way to unite and practice both of her passions and is experiencing fulfillment in tangible ways that we are grateful she can share with us. Ladies . . . the extraordinary Taffy Wallace.

What does fulfillment mean to you?

When I look at the word and break it down I see two words: ful and fill. The first word has one “l” and the second has two, and it reminds me that fulfillment is expansive and that it gets better and more potent as I move through time. It means to me being filled full. Implicit in fulfillment is also the concept of desire. Desire is the framework for involvement with fulfillment.

What do you believe is the path to fulfillment?

I believe there are many paths; as many paths as there are individuals. In the purest sense, when I know what I want in my life and get to the essence of what that desire means to me, then I have a clear path to fulfillment. For instance when I was pursuing a career as a fashion designer, no one could have told me that achieving my dream would not have brought fulfillment. And yet, at the age of 25, after working and traveling a path toward my goal and finally arriving at the dream, I still found myself longing for more, I was not fulfilled. I was on a path to what I thought would be fulfilling and yet I was feeling empty and dry. I still wanted more. I believe this is a classic example of how the first step on the path to fulfillment is to really know myself. In the case of fashion design, what I was really seeking was recognition, and clothed under that desire for recognition was a deep desire to bring joy to myself by giving my gifts. It took time for me to find the path to the deepest fulfillment and the first step was defiantly asking myself the deep questions and listening to the answers that came.

What is the role material success plays in living fulfilled?

I think it plays a major role. In American society, probably the most major role of all. I love the material world and love success! And, material is only half the equation; it’s like ful-half-fillment. In my experience, there has always been a deeper place within that the material fulfillment doesn’t touch. Some good questions to start with when working with a desire for material success is “what do I want that I am believing that material success will bring? What is the emotion that I want to experience in my day-to-day life? What do I want to give?” And, depending on where we are in life, it may just be that material success will bring me a roof over my head and food on the table. I think it is critical to have the material successes balanced and healthy – to give me more room in my heart to explore my deeper desires for fulfilled living.

Do you believe a person can be fulfilled if they don’t have everything they desire?

This is a great question, and this is what could appear to be a paradox of desire: living in peace and living life fulfilled. It is said that genius is the ability to hold two apposing points of view simultaneously. Do I think is can be done? YES! Absolutely! I believe a person can be fulfilled even if they don’t have everything they desire. And to do so takes fierce determination and a trusting willingness to explore the depths of who we are and what life means. As I said earlier, there are as many paths to fulfillment as there are people. For me, I have come to know that fulfillment is when I know my own freedom. This sense of freedom is my absolute birthright, and I experience it to the degree that I believe that I am a whole perfect and complete child of God. While my desires enrich my life, my fulfillment is God given. My fulfillment has been with me since before the beginning – the goal for me is to recognize it. That’s were the determination and trust come in. God gives it, and I get the job of looking for it in my life, even if it isn’t easy to see

What are the qualities that are essential to living fulfilled, and why?

I would say trust and inquisitiveness are the two most important. Trust because when the waters appear rough, the biggest anchor out there is “this too shall pass.” Inquisitiveness is having the talent to comb a situation for the hidden treasure which, once found, acts as a beacon in the night guiding us back to our pure and God-given fulfillment.

What would you offer to someone who believes a particular thing will be the answer to their woes and fulfill them?

I would support that person fully in pursuing that “thing” that they want, and at the same time I would offer them this truth: Fulfillment is a process of unfoldment and not a destination. Or, put another way, when you have what it is you want, or think you want, you are freed up to experience the presence of the unfolding process of life, which for me is God’s fulfillment in my life.

In your life experience what have you found most fulfilling and why?

In my earlier years I spent a lot of time worrying about my appearance; never having the body I really desired, the face I really desired, the hair, you name it. I was not experiencing fulfilled living. Quiet the opposite, I was in a battle with “what is.” Even when, on the best of days, I felt I had the appearance under control, I couldn’t enjoy it because the fear of maintaining that contrived look would have me pent up in knots. “Oh God, what if it rains today and reverts my hairdo, and the ‘perfect look’ washes off my face and down the sewer? Or that bite of chocolate cake will put all of the pounds I’ve struggled to loose right back on, so I can’t really enjoy this meal.”

It was so painful to spend many, many years frustrated with the package I had been born with. What changed for me was first when I realized that I was the answer. The answer was not in changing what was, but the answer was in my opinion of what was. That was the first step – understanding that I held the key by having the ability to change my opinions. And, the second step was in my spiritual awakening that I am one with that which created me. So I began to change from the inside, as a result of the realization that my appearance was given to me by a loving God, and that God loves the way I appear. Once I got it that the work was within me and not about changing the package, I was free to be happy with “what is” and to ultimately find fulfillment.

If you are interested in receiving life coaching from Taffy or want to know more about her magnificent plays, feel free to contact her at TAFFYEW@YAHOO.COM.