Intro to Porpoise Driven Life

Rick Warren’s Purpose-Driven Life delighted and inspired millions of readers who needed to know that their life has purpose and wanted to know the steps to achieving that life. What about the rest of us? What about those of us who have long-since abandoned the quest for our lofty “purpose” and are just trying to survive the capricious, stormy, winds, that are banging against our double-wides every day? Some may have the luxury of waking every day to the esoteric question of how can I best fulfill my divine destiny?. I wake up wondering if I can find my glute with both hands on the way to raising the toilet lid for the 4th time since I went to sleep the night before.
Standing in front of the porcelain, ultimate questions flood my mind. Where is God in my day today? Uh,oh. I wonder if they pulled my car payment a day early since tomorrow is Saturday? How can I fulfill my earthly purpose? Crap, did I forget to take the garbage down. What areas of growth do I have as a parent today? Oh no, where can I scrounge two bucks for Jenna’s school lunch? And so the day continues with its probing questions: Why did I agree to be in charge of that? What is the best way to not take this call? Where’s my pager, keys, glasses, daytimer, and car? And so it goes, or at least so it went….. until that fateful day in October.
I was on sabbatical from my job as a hospital chaplain. I had just worked about 60 hours a week for a month, watching people die, fight, cry, and swear at the chaplain’s inability to assuage their medical needs. “What good are you to me!” exclaimed one angry vet to the sheepish chaplain who couldn’t produce a piece of dentyne to ease his palat. Realizing that I was quickly becoming “no good to anyone” I booked a cheap Southwest ticket to Tampa, haggled over a 17 dollar rental car promotion and checked into a “tier 1” motel room on my hotel rewards account. The next day I braved the oncoming rain to make it out to the pier for a guaranteed “dolphin sighting” boat cruise. With the storm headed in, all of the dolphin entrepreneurs were shutting down early. “No way you’re going to be able to make it out there today,” said one old crusty sailor as he finished tying up his boat for the night. But soon I was atop the lone cutter, brave enough to take the die-hard group of dolphin hunters for one more ride. We were told that we were “guaranteed” to see dolphins or promised another miserable wet ride for free where we might not see dolphins again. It’s kind of like those dating websites where losers are promised that if they don’t find a mate in 6 months, they are guaranteed another 6 months of humiliation for free. For a while the sea was silent as the waves crashed against our boat and the water sprayed us like a small child being hosed down after being caught playing GI Joes in a neighbor’s garden. But just as the Captain’s scripted nautical jokes began to run ashore, a huge-arse dolphin jumped in front of me. “Shit!” I exclaimed as my 100 kilos fell backward into the personal space of the parents of a small-child. So much for a family-friendly boat cruise. My excitement at my 17 dollar investment began to soar as the dolphin-quest took me places that I haven’t been since my surprise 9th grade birthday party. Suddenly I realized I was enthralled by the dolphins jumping willy-nilly in our wake. I felt like Doc when the flux capacitor first gave flight to the De’lorean in Back to the Future 1. I was more excited than the kids on the boat, the retirees, and the Captain Kangaroo who was dependent on the mammals for his semi-livelihood. The jovial, aquatic, creatures were appearing and disappearing at will, leaping and turning in the air, screaming and silent as they played their land mammal fools like a Charlie Daniels’ fiddle. They were not seeking their purpose in life. They weren’t dependent on formulas and effort for their salvation. No calendars, blackberries, wide screens, or Facebook events. Their spirituality was simple. They were happy and in control of their surroundings. The Porpoise Driven Life was born.