Repurposing: Recycling Ourselves

Yesterday my daughter Kate used the word repurpose in a conversation about decorating her new house.  Not being the decorator type, I hadn’t heard the word used until that moment.  My creative juices, it would seem, have led me toward more literary ventures rather than the esoteric home decorating or fashion brigade, although plenty of friends and family seem to be clever enough in that department to make up for my shortcomings. And I have always relied on their advice.

Curious about the word, which is believed to have first appeared in 1984, I Googled it and was astounded at the number of definitions, photos of repurposed items—hundreds of them—and comments and suggestions about the act of giving new purpose to something that might otherwise be discarded.  Bathroom tissue rolls molded into art work, old doors turned into tables, and cans and jars transformed into décor for every room in your house, the possibilities could yield endless objects of delight.

Several comments, however, were not so positive:  The word is too saccharine, too superficial.  What’s wrong with the old word, recycle? Why use a new word when the old one works perfectly?  I must admit, I tended to side with the naysayers.  Yet, after more consideration, I’ve decided to recycle the word repurpose, taking full advantage of its wonderful metaphoric quality.

            Consider these widely accepted definitions:

·         To use or convert for use in another format

·         To use for a different purpose on a long-term basis

·         To alter to make more suited for a different purpose

·         To give new purpose or life to

 

Now, if we take a broader view of the less materialistic and look at more spiritual prospects in life, the most principled act we can commit to is that of recognizing the purpose for our lives. You don’t have to look far to find people struggling to realize who they are and what they want out of a job, a relationship, a life.  Don’t misunderstand.  I’m not suggesting that there is a quick fix or an overnight metamorphosis.  Finding your purpose is a lifelong process that has to start somewhere at some time. For those who walked down this path early in life, congratulations and well done are in order.  It takes a long time, however, for many people to reach that consciousness, but it’s never too late to get started. 

 

And so I return to this interesting word repurpose.

 

I knew I would become a teacher from the age of eight or nine when I held my first classroom with any of the children in the neighborhood I could corral.  I frequently spent time alone composing stories in my head even though only one teacher ever asked me to put one in writing.  Several teachers, whose positive influence and mentoring changed the way I saw myself, became my role models, and I couldn’t wait to go to college and become a teacher myself.  At age 21, I taught my first group of students ninth grade English, but my purpose in life was only just beginning to unfold. 

 

I suppose I’ve been repurposing my life for years:

 

When I was faced with challenges, I tried to convert those difficulties into lessons that could teach me what I clearly didn’t know.

 

When I surveyed the talents God gave me, I tried to use them for growing my purpose and moving to even greater heights.

 

When I found myself in situations that I believed were more difficult than I was able to cope with, I turned to the solution of changing the way I handled each one to better suit my purpose.

When what I was doing to raise my children or succeed in my job wasn’t working, I changed directions to breathe new life into every endeavor.

 

I was not always successful, but more often than not, I accepted change—not always willingly—and grew in faith.

 

Repurposing your life--finding new uses for it—is not as simple as turning a cardboard shoe box into a contact paper covered carry-all, but without change, subtle or sublimely painful, it is illogical to think growth can occur.

 

In his book Anam Cara, a Book of Celtic Wisdom, John O’Donohue says, “Change, therefore, need not be threatening; it can in fact bring our lives to perfection.”  He adds that it is “important to explore how possibility and change remain so faithful to us.  They open us to new depths within…This is the secret way that change and possibility conspire with growth…When you are faithful to the risk and ambivalence of growth, you are engaging your life.  The soul loves risk.”

 

I have found over time that the moment you become open to new depths within, you begin to gain consciousness.  Only through mindfulness will you begin to recognize how to love and nurture yourself so that the changes you encounter can lead you to the most harmonious end.