What one thing would you need to have in order to finally get on with the work you’ve been put on this earth to do?
It’s an important question, one worth asking.
If, for example, what you wanted to do was become a skier, you’d need skis. If you wanted to be a guitar player, you’d need a guitar. If you were going to be a philanthropist, you’d need money.
It’s not rocket science (for which you’d need, if not a rocket, then at least, science).
But here’s the thing: If you’re in a position to believe that you have a reasonable chance of pulling off any of those kinds of big vocational adventures, you’ve already walked a ways down that road. That is to say, if you’re convinced that what you’ve been put on this earth to contribute to the great human drama is your amazing skiing, guitar-playing, gift-giving awesomeness, you probably already have (at least in some basic form) skis, a guitar, or some money. Right? You’ve almost certainly done some of that stuff already, which suggests that you already have access to the basics necessary to accomplish that goal.
But if what you think you have to offer the world is great writing, or great music, or great hospitality, how do you answer that question? A pen, a melody, a warm embrace—all things (like the skis, the guitar, the money) you most likely have already as well.
All of which is to say: Chances are better than even that you already possess that one thing you need to do what you’ve been placed on this earth to do.