With Thanksgiving approaching, I have been doing a lot of reflection about the things I am thankful for. This reflection and recent events in my life have led to me to try and identify my
big why in life.
For those that have never heard of that term, your big why is the thing that drives you, the thing that defines you, and the thing that gives you purpose behind the actions you take on a daily basis. This is the story of how I developed and discovered my big why.
I grew up in a rough town in a very conservative household with great values. We didn’t have a television because of my parents strongly held religious beliefs, and in my younger more impressionable years, I was homeschooled to avoid the childhood pitfalls that my parents believed might have a negative impact on my journey to adulthood.
I spent much of my time reading whatever books I had on hand and growing my minuscule knowledge base. My parents encouraged me to have friends over instead of spending our time elsewhere, and I could always count on my mom to have food on the table for us. We weren’t rich by any means, but this was what mattered to my parents. They would always provide for everyone who walked through the door, even if it meant sacrificing the things they wanted.
I eventually entered my high-school years, and finally integrated into the school system, becoming much more social than I used to be. Whereas encyclopedias and books had previously filled my boredom, sports and activities with friends now grasped at my attention. I started to find my place among my peers as we spent time together and shared goals in athletics and our personal lives.
I ended up leaving high-school with a plethora of people I called my friends, and the ranks only grew as I started college and the more irresponsible phase of my life. My parents tried to push me in the direction of cautious choices and minimal risk, but that just wasn’t who I was. What hadn’t changed though, was that my parents’ house was the place we all spent our time at when we weren’t getting into trouble.
My mom still had food ready for us anytime I brought someone home, and they added a pool table, ping pong table, a fire pit and a hot tub to further increase the odds I would spend my time where they knew I was safe. They never got their wish of seeing me make the safest choice in each situation that arose, but their efforts taught me a different and vastly more important lesson.
They had taught me what it was to welcome others into your life and into your home with no expectations of anything but friendship and a good time. While each meal my mother tirelessly cooked for us may have been an attempt to keep us where she could see we were safe, it ended up being a source of comfort for all those welcomed into our home (a list that was long and constantly changing). Our house became a home away from home for many of my friends, and for some of them, that was something they desperately needed.
I left for the Marine Corps after a couple years spent in college, and with it, left behind that house I had grown so accustomed to spending my time in. Once I had settled down into a duty station and gotten my own place to live off of base, something happened in an almost involuntary manner. I opened my little apartment to anyone and everyone who wanted to come by and made my new home an escape from the day to day grind that is life in the military.
We spent countless days and nights drinking and making memories together. The pressure of our jobs and superiors couldn’t reach us there, we were at home and with our newly made family. The bonds we formed during these times became tighter than the bonds many of us had with our own flesh and blood relatives. When we faced hardships, we faced them together, when we had reasons to celebrate, we damn sure did that together.
My mother’s attempt to create safety for me had created a home away from home for my friends back then, and the impression those memories left on me created a home away from home for me and my friends in the new life I had chosen to live.
After leaving the Marines Corps, I settled in San Diego for a couple years, and left a standing invitation for all of my friends to leave the confines of Camp Pendleton on the weekends to join me in the resort of an apartment I was living in. I didn’t know it then, but those relationships helped me just as much as it may have helped any of my friends.
I was struggling with adapting to life outside of the military, and the memories I had repressed in the name of getting my job done on a day to day basis had begun to emerge. When I felt the weight was getting too heavy, a friend would show up looking to escape the endless grind and that weight would disappear. Those relationships became what kept me connected to people when I felt alone in the world, and helped pull me out of the darkest period of my life.
Nowadays, I’m living in Boise, Idaho, far away from the base most of my second family call home in southern California, but those connections and that sense of responsibility to serve each other hasn’t faded in the least. These are the people I call when the world gets overwhelming, the people I call when I don’t know the answers to hard questions. They are the people I call when I’m having a rough day and I’m not sure how to pull myself out of the funk I fell into. And I do the same for all of them.
This is my big why now. The thing that drives me, the thing that gives me hope when I feel discouraged. Making people feel like they have someone or something to turn to when the world is against them drives me to continually strive to be a better person, to achieve more, and to be more capable of helping when that help is needed. This all goes back to those early, impressionable days of my young life. It goes back to a family who always encouraged me to make others feel at home.
Those lessons I learned from my parents without even realizing I was learning them helped define what is important to me as an adult. As a result, this has helped me transform from someone who was lost and angry at the world, into someone others turn to when the weight of the world is on their shoulders. I know who I am, I know what matters to me, and it all goes back to those hours my dad spent working to put a roof over my head and the hours my mom spent turning that house into a home for me and everyone I cared about.
So, this Thanksgiving, I am thankful to my family for giving me a clear reason to wake up every morning. A reason to push through difficult times, and that sense of purpose and satisfaction I feel when someone trusts me and reaches out for help in the hard times they are having. You taught me how to turn a house into a home, and more importantly, you showed me what it means to be a family. A family that isn’t restricted by blood, a family that exists to serve each other during the good times and the bad.
To everyone reading this, I would like you to spend some time identifying what it is you care about. What’s your big why and what created that big why in your life? This Thanksgiving, share that big why with the people you care about and commit to making it the driving force in the life you choose to live.
To my family, those related by blood and those who have earned that title through the years of difficult times we have gone through, thank you for always being my big why. It’s changed the course of my life, and I wouldn’t be who I am now without you.
"He who has a why to live for can bear with almost any how" Nietzsche