There is something I’d like to share.

It is not a secret that I went through big life changes some years ago. I had the courage to leave it all behind and rebuild my life from scratch. It wasn’t easy, as in this case it related not only to changing a job, or a house, or a country, or a family (and, believe me, all of these were part of it), but it directly affected my faith.

I had spent 12 years dedicated to what I believe to be my calling, serving God all I could. But 12 years are a long time, and I matured. I grew and could not fit into what was expected of me, partly because my dedication was without limitation, making me grow in a way I might not have otherwise. Like Alice in Worderland, getting bigger and bigger with each bite. Except I didn’t find a mushroom lying around. It was given to me, I was instructed to bite it, and I did so diligently. Nobody expected the effects, not even me.

I had to choose. Will I eat the other mushroom and become tinny to fit again? At a certain point, I just couldn’t be there anymore. “To be” and “being there” were not compatible when my way of being started to be classified as “wrong”. Too independent, too many questions, too much energy — just too much.

But, you see, I am not too much. “There” became too little. Not the cause or the faith, but the logistics of it.

And I had to understand that leaving a certain place does not mean leaving your beliefs, your God, or your faith.

For some reason, God wanted me there for that period of time. Maybe exactly to lead me where I am.

Then He supported me as I left and gave me new purpose in life, both through my work and family.

Well, as I chose a new career, I was told by someone that I was trying to “appease my conscience” because I was unfaithful to my calling. Actually, it makes total sense that I would continue growing and use what I learned in service of others. Clearly, this person understands her purpose very differently than I understand mine.

So I wanted to share with U a text I wrote some years ago about finding your call. I hope U enjoy it!

THE TATTOO (from the book “My First year out: an open diary”, by Laila Stancioff) 

"I have a tattoo with three stars. When I made it, I was thinking of the three kings that traveled to see the Savior, Who had been born. They saw their star and followed it until the end. Even though it disappeared in the middle of the way, and they had to make a stop in the capital to ask for directions. Even though the journey was difficult, and they ate a lot of sand. Even though they found a baby with His mother in a poor place when they got there, instead of the mighty king they could have expected.

I like stars. Not because I like shiny stuff (which I do) but because they have a peaceful and elegant light that is always there, although it is not always visible. They have a hidden beauty that you can only see if you remove the obstacles, and the more you discover it, the more awed you are. The stars always make me think about my vocation, my calling in the world.

What do we look for when we question ourselves about what our calling is? Isn’t it this peace and permanence that the stars have? At the same time, this discreteness, this hidden treasure? Because my vocation is mine, I will only want to share it with people who are willing to see it as I do, are willing to remove the obstacles and the judgments to find out the sky full of beauty that I want to share with them. And might you see it or not, it is there; it will not disappear from one night to the next and it will not let us down. We all want this security and this certainty. We want to know where we are going; we want to have a purpose that brings beauty to life.

But how can we know we have found this star, our star, and that the star we found is really the final one, the definite one? I thought I had the answer a long time ago, but there was no way of just putting the star in my pocket and saying: “Found it, problem solved.”

When you have a tattoo in a visible place, you get to see it a lot, which gives you plenty of opportunities to think about it, especially if you are the kind of can’t-stop-thinking person. So, let’s take a look at my tattoo.

I chose to do it, and it has a lot of meaning for me. But the idea that led to the tattoo was not mine at all. The story is: I have a very good friend I met in high school. We would always sit together, and she would draw stars on my pulse when she was bored. These are the same stars that I continued drawing for years and to which I gave meaning. And when I reached the age when I could not go around with drawings in my hands, I got the tattoo. So, the tattoo was my choice, my decision… was it? Of course, I gave meaning to it and I decided to make it something permanent in my skin, and I’m the one who is going to be looking at it day-in-day-out, but still, the inspiration came from someone else.

How many of our decisions – even the big ones – have someone else’s finger on them? How often are they aware of the influence they have had in these decisions? How conscious are we of it? So often, we have no idea how much someone influenced us and even in which direction. Even the people who are doing it are rarely aware of the reach of their advice and actions. This does not change the fact that I was the one to do the tattoo. If I regret it, I cannot go back to my friend and complain to her. I could complain to the person who made the tattoo if it had a mistake, and I could complain to my super tattooed brother for not warning me I could regret it (which he actually did multiple times before giving me the tattoo as a gift, so no complaining to him either). But this would not change the fact that I was the one who did it.

The decision is mine, and this is what I have affirmed for years and years when someone implied that I had been manipulated by people when making certain decisions. I still do not think I was manipulated, though now I am more aware of the reach of external influences on me. If my friend had drawn butterflies, would my tattoo be different? If my brother had stimulated me instead of warning me, maybe I would have an entire constellation instead of the three stars I have? And would it look better that way?

I did have people stimulating me: if you are going to do it, do it big. Why limit yourself to three stars? You have a whole clean arm! GO FOR IT! You are young, you are competent, nothing is limiting you! It must be with all body and soul; otherwise, it is not worth it! No tinny easy-to-hide tattoo!

Thanks for the support… but did anyone ask me if I have sensitive skin, if a prominent constellation fits my style, or if I had the money to afford it? These did not seem like important questions by that time… and the tattoo came out much bigger than it should have been. Ups, now I wasn’t talking about the actual tattoo anymore…

But my tattoo also made me realize another thing: your calling is broader than you can imagine and has much more meaning than you see. We can have those moments in life when you say: “That’s it, I’ve got this. I was really meant for this.” But do we understand what “this” means? Some people have the fortune to find their vocation, which gives a sense of purpose and clarity to life that most people in the world are still searching for. I’m not saying this is the only thing that brings clarity, but you get my point.

But the problem is when these people get stuck in thinking that this vocation is entirely static and will not go through any changes. You see, when talking about professional vocation and purpose, nobody has any doubt that it changes throughout life. So why shouldn’t this apply to vocation in general?

And yes, I am also talking about religious people, who see their calling, decide to give it all to God, and make a decision for life, which is where I was. One year ago, I would look at someone who “leaves their calling” and say that they have not been faithful. Now I understand it is not so simple. Of course, you cannot ignore years of a life that you have chosen for yourself, even with external influences. You can’t throw the entire puzzle out, but sometimes you need to rebuild it. But to rebuild it, you have to understand it and see the meaning behind it. And, although when the pieces are put up together differently, they might not fit into the original box anymore, the essence is still the same. It is just seen and interpreted from a new angle.

Now I realize that our calling has much more meaning than we can apprehend and that this meaning unfolds little by little. So apparent changes are just discoveries, not essential changes, just like with my tattoo.

I have been living in Latvia for seven years now. When I show the three stars to Latvians, many think it is a Latvian symbol – it looks like the three stars of the Freedom monument in the center of Riga. And it could be! Moving to Latvia has been a dream for years, and since I arrived, I have felt that this is where I was meant to be, as if, as my grandmother says, “my motherland has been calling me.” In the end, my tattoo means both what I meant it to and the meaning I realized later. The fact is that I made three stars, and not two or five, and that they are in the position I put them, and purposefully or not, reflect my connection with Latvia. I tattooed a Latvian symbol on my hand unconsciously.

Next time someone tells you that having a tattoo is a waste of time or pure vanity, tell them that tattoos happen to stimulate reflection. I dare them to say otherwise."

Yours,