3

Purple

Here was one of the strangest sights I’d ever seen – a huge structure – was it a farmhouse – out in the middle of nowhere with one small road leading to it and nothing else around. The “neighborhood” looked as if it had been built for one reason and one reason only. There were a few bare trees like nothing more than some large twigs scattered along the street in the winter air.

The limo passed the structure, which up close, had an almost renaissance look and feel to it, and then we parked in the back.

“This is where I bid you goodbye, my friend,” Kris said abruptly as he began to step out of the limo.

“Wait a minute! What happens to me?” I demanded.

“You’ll be given instructions on how to move forward. Good luck.”

Kris began to shut the door, but then stopped and opened it wide enough to poke his head in.

“I’m glad you stayed, Joe. I know you’ll discover that we both made the right decision.”

Kris was off and the limo made another one of its unforgettable u-turns and retraced the path we had just driven, pulling alongside what I assumed was the front of the building.

“We’ll wait here for five minutes.”

The limo driver spoke with an accent, though I couldn’t place its origin.

“Gotta name?” I asked.

“The name is Jerry, Boss.”

Jerry was one of those drivers who likes to talk to you while looking in his rear view mirror rather than turn around and speak face to face.

“Well, Jerry, maybe you can tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Nothin’ goin’ on, Boss. Just good fun for the kids. You’ll see.”

I looked around and saw nothing that might resemble good fun – not today or any day.

“Well, Jerry, maybe you haven’t noticed because you’ve been driving, but we’re out in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t a kid in sight. Doesn’t that make you wonder?”

“No, Boss. You’ll see – it’s like magic. The entire street will be lined with kids and lights.”

Even though it bugged me at first that Jerry called me Boss, there was a certain likeability about him. He seemed to have – what was it – a type of contentment that made me believe him. Or was that my hope springing up again?

Jerry peered into his mirror and gave his best impression of looking me in the eyes.

“It’s time, Boss. Don’t worry – just let it happen.”

I received Jerry’s instructions and got ready to go when he startled me by turning around to face me.

“See you on the other side, Boss,” he smiled.

I couldn’t help but think about what Jerry had just said as I walked towards the house – about seeing me on the other side. The other side of what?

I paused in front of the entrance – doubt and indecision in my mind. Again, I asked myself the question – why me? What did Kris see in me that made him believe I had something to contribute?

Believe. The word stuck in my head. What exactly did I believe in? How did I reach a point in my life where others believed in me more than I did? I used to be unstoppable.

I hesitantly entered the building as instructed and was enveloped in complete darkness. A musty smell filled the air, as if the house had been sitting vacant for a long time. There was also a faint smell of – was that paint?

Jerry was very specific about where I was to go – the purple room – even though it didn’t make any sense. I crept forward down the dark passageway half expecting some Halloween creature to jump out at me. This place was for kids I asked myself?

The darkness was disorienting to the point where I didn’t know if I was going to bump into an obstacle – or worse – step into some kind of trap door. A brief panic ran down my spine.

It was impossible to find a door, let alone a name on one. Then I saw it – a faint glow of light ahead that appeared out of nowhere like magic – and I immediately assumed that it came from under the door. I approached it with caution and nervously felt the door with my hands.

Purple – this was it! I knocked twice on the door, just as Jerry instructed me to do. I hate to admit it, but my heart began to pound with anticipation. Even though the whole thing seemed strange, it was much more exciting than sitting in the homeless shelter.

The door slowly opened and there on the other side was – Kris? What the heck was he doing there?

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said with a smile.

The room was small, windowless and awash in dull light from above. The walls – an antiseptic white – were bare and matched the rest of the room. A ladder leaned conspicuously against a small table with dozens of small, purple boxes on it and a matching mirror on the wall behind it. And then there was still that paint smell.

“It’s good to see you again, Joe. You’ve come very far in such a short time.”

“It’s good to see you again too, Kris. What’s it been, like 10 minutes? I need to know – now – why you brought me here.”

“Why – to paint, of course.”

Kris opened a closet door and out came an opened can of purple paint, as well as some brushes and a roller.

“You’re joking, right?”

“No joke. We can’t have a purple room with white walls now, can we?”

I remembered what Jerry had said about not worrying and just letting it happen. I grabbed the ladder without another word and went to work.

I finished the last brush stroke and stepped back to admire my work. Not bad for a homeless guy! I returned the room to its previous arrangement and carefully pushed the small table back against the wall.

“What’s in the boxes, Kris?”

At that moment, I sensed Kris’s powerful presence as he walked up from behind although he had been inside the room the entire time.

I gingerly picked up one of the boxes and examined it. It was about the size of a ring case, very plainly wrapped; it appeared to hold no real significance.

“One of the Beans?” I asked.

Kris answered with silence.

I put the box back on the table.

“Where do they come from? I mean, who makes them and puts all of this together?”

“Suffice it to say that the Beans are naturally and organically created with input from the greatest minds – both past and present. The rest you’ll discover as we go along.”

With both his hands, Kris picked up the box and extended it toward me.

“Your antidote, Joe.”

My heart raced as I took the box, slowly opened it, and peered at its contents for several seconds. Inside was a uniquely shaped and carefully placed purple Bean. I chewed the Bean for several seconds with my eyes shut so that I could truly savor its flavor – and power.

“What do you feel?” Kris whispered.

“It tastes like...”

“Not taste. Feel. What do you feel?”

The truth was that I was feeling many things when I opened my eyes and suddenly caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. I moved in for a closer look and fixated on the sight for the longest time – because I just didn’t recognize the individual staring back at me. Was it the dull light, or something else?

For the first time I saw who I truly was and what I had become.

“I feel as if I don’t know why I’m here. That I don’t recognize that man in the mirror,” I muttered.

Kris grabbed the paintbrush that was sitting off to the side and held it up for me to see.

“Why is this here?”

“I’m not sure I get you, Kris.”

“What is the reason for this brush being here – at this moment?”

It sounded like a ridiculous question at the time, but I answered it anyway.

“To paint the walls, of course.”

“Of course,” Kris confirmed.

Then Kris pointed to the ladder.

“Why is this ladder here?”

“To help reach the tops of the walls. Where are you going with this?” I begged.

“The paintbrush has a purpose. The ladder has a purpose. What is your purpose, Joe?”

I was stunned by the question, and the more I thought about it the more speechless I became. What was my purpose?

“I don’t know, Kris. I don’t know if I’ve ever known.”

Kris bent down to pick something off the floor – a mousetrap – and waved it in front of me.

“Even a mousetrap has a purpose, Joe. Aren’t you more important than a mousetrap?”

“The first Bean of Wisdom is the Purple Bean of Purpose. Life without a purpose – is no life at all. Everything comes from purpose – our passions, our confidence, our creativity and our dreams.”

Kris was on a roll – again.

“You live your life in doubt, fearful and disoriented – just as you did when you entered this building for the first time. Stumbling in the dark like a blind person hoping that someone – anyone – will turn a light on for you to help you find your way.”

“You need to become that light, Joe – for others who are stumbling just as you were. You must listen to your inner voice and what it’s telling you.”

“You see, in order to be a great leader, you must first truly know your own purpose before you can help others find theirs. How else can you help your employees who are stumbling in their own darkness? This then earns you the right to mentor others, whether they are your employees or your loved ones.”

I stood in silent agony. How could I not – everything Kris said was completely true. I began to think back to my restaurant days and how I treated my employees. I thought I’d offered them support and guidance, but I didn’t. It was always about me and how much money I made. How many employees did I lose because they were stumbling in the dark and failing just because I wasn’t able to show them the light and help them succeed?

“The paintbrush – the ladder – the mousetrap. None of those items know their true purpose – they just exist until we act upon them and show them their true purpose, and that allows them to offer their true beauty.”

“It’s the same with your employees – your loved ones – even your enemies. Help them find their true purpose and your business will skyrocket, your loved ones will blossom, and your enemies will become your allies.”

Kris was passionate and spellbinding – and he was right. Me – a mentor? How I would love to know what my purpose in life was so that I’d be able to guide others like he envisioned I could. But how was I to find it?

“The first Bean of Wisdom is the Bean of Purpose. Everything comes from purpose – our passions, our confidence, our creativity and our dreams.”