When I was in my late teens, I had been out of the cult for a few years and was delving headfirst into my newfound freedom.
On one particular occasion, I was at a friends birthday party in a beautiful old Victorian house, the furniture in the lounge room evicted to make room for a dj and a dance floor, party drugs flowing freely in a cool, freshly out or - in the middle of - uni crowd, with some “not sure what I want to do with my life” creatives sprinkled in for good measure.
The dj was a friend of the birthday girl and agreed to bring cool vibes to the party as a gift. I had always been curious of the dj; their gear, their look and their style. The coolness, I felt, was real.
Not me :)
I’d had some party favours myself and was feeling happy and bold. So I asked the dj if he would be so kind as to show me how to set up some vinyl and mix it into the current song - how it all worked. He was more than happy to show me.
Pick the vinyl you want, something not too distant from what is currently playing to make it easier to mix in.
Listen to the new vinyl and match the tempo to the song currently playing.
Find the spot you want to mix in from the new song to the current song.
When you’re happy it’s all matched up, slide the crossfader on the mixer at whatever speed you want, depending on the songs, tempo etc. to transition and blend the new song with the current song into existence to the seemingly uninterested groups of party goers on the makeshift dance floor.
They were having fun, don’t get me wrong. Chatting away with each other about intellectual subjects that made their buzz feel even buzzier. The music was just a nice background soundtrack to their overstimulated present moment and not much more than that.
“Now your turn,” said the friendly dj man, pointing to a box full of curated long play vinyl. I had to pick one for the next track to be played.
I flicked through the box and didn’t recognise any of the names or covers. They were all dance albums of some description or another.
I went by a cover I thought looked cool. I must have been tuned in because when I put the headphones on to check the track, it was a banger. Even though I’d never heard it before, the tempo and style was right up my ally. Perfect for a good boogey.
I didn’t listen to the whole track, just the beginning and just enough to line up the tempo to the currently playing song.
I had it.
It was time to start moving the crossfader over to blend the new track in time with the current track and slowly phase out the current song so that the new song could be heard by the crowd.
Again, I was in some sort of dj zone because unbeknown to me, the new song had come into a build up and just as I went with the beat to fully bring the new song in, the drop in the song landed perfectly with a bang and the once 'uninterested in the dj but fully interested in the conversation' crowd all turned to me, raised their fists and in unison all yelled, “YEAH!” at the top of their lungs, almost in some sort of choreographed, musically possessed approval.
It was at that moment that I, for a brief time, thought that being a dj would probably be really fucking cool.
I never took it too seriously but that moment in time always stuck with me as being a time of excitement, wonder and possibility.
If you listen to any gurus or successful business mentors (any that are worth their salt), they will tell you that in the pursuit of joy and even success in life, you need to follow those moments of excitement.
They may be small, they may be brief but these are the breadcrumbs of that elusive purpose you're so desperately trying to discover.
When I look back on my life, it's those separate, excitement filled moments that have come back to me full circle and combined, in the form of a passion that is actually also my purpose.
Follow the breadcrumbs.
Therein lie the clues to the blueprint of your purpose.
Rx