Right Your Aim
Ben went to bed that night, pleased at a new job offer he’d just received. A new company had sought him out. He was good at what he did and was actively being recruited away from his current employer. With the new company, he’d be doing the same thing, but have more freedom, more responsibility, and more compensation.
There was only one thing wrong. He hadn’t been enjoying his work for some time. He hadn’t been actively looking, yet wanted to somehow find a way to make a change. It wasn’t his employer, it was the type of work that didn’t seem to fit with what he really wanted to do with his time and talents. Still, he hadn’t been able to figure out what he should be doing otherwise.
Then it had come: A call from a recruiter. There was wining and dining. It all felt good and flattering. It seemed the new job offer was like an answer to prayer. But in the back of his mind there was a nagging doubt as he lulled off to sleep one night. Would he really be any happier?
Ben began tossing fitfully in the throes of a strange dream. In the dream, he was an archer trying to hit a target that seemed reasonably close, yet every time he drew back on the bow, aimed and let fly, the arrow would veer aside and go anywhere but into the target.
Time after time, he drew back and let fly. Time after time the arrow flew awry. His frustration grew. If he could just hit the target, he knew he would be happy. His aim was good. Maybe there was something wrong with the arrows. Upon examination, they seemed straight and true. Then in the background he heard chuckling, murmurs, soft voices commenting on his discomfiture.
Ben spun around to confront the voices. Standing there were three deities in white robes smiling in amusement. “We see you have a problem,” the first said. He was curly haired, jovial in expression and rotund in figure.
“The arrows won’t fly where I aim,” Ben replied, feeling defensive and angry that the deities hadn’t offered to help.
“So they won’t,” the second replied. She was willowy and slim, but of pleasant countenance. “There must be a problem, then, but what could it be?”
“It’s not the arrows. I checked,” said Ben glancing at all three. “And it’s not a problem with my aim. I’m very precise. The bow has been proven many times in the hunt. I know from experience and past success.”
“Then perhaps the target is wrong,” said the third deity. He was darkly solemn, but not unkind. “Maybe in your heart, you really don’t want to hit this target. The bow and the arrows are being your friends.” With that the three smiling deities vanished.
Ben woke up, his mind reeling with the vivid images and feelings of frustration. Then he thought a moment, pondering over his recollection of what the deities had said. There was a message there. Maybe they were trying to help.
Then a thought struck. Maybe taking the new job wasn’t such a good idea after all. Maybe it was time to listen to his heart and consider trying to find out what he ‘really’ should be doing with his life, even if it meant finding a completely different line of work?
At that exact moment, he felt the distant thud of an arrow striking the center of the target. And he felt happy.
