Why do so many of us appear to be afraid of living? Is it because we fear a lack of life – of death? Or, is it because, like any new piece of clothing, it initially feels uncomfortable and takes time to get used to — is this the reason? I am perplexed, to be honest. I only, of course, know what I know. That being said: our experience is similar, I am sure. I have worn the clothes of adolescence, the clothes of the student, the clothes of the salesman, the clothes of the businessman and the clothes of the educator. At each new sartorial change, the attire was uncomfortable and quite disquieting, at the beginning. We have to “grow into” our new clothes. Is this not life? Our being, our reality, our “comfort zone” is wracked with changes and alterations during a lifetime, whether we invite them or not.
It is a good life
We have a tendency to not remind ourselves often enough, to forget, that it is a good life – for as long as we have it. This is a claim that is difficult to hold prior to being born and it won’t be tenable, most assuredly, after we are deceased. There is a school of thought, however, that believes the words should not be “have,” — for as long as we have it, but actually “endure,” — for as long as we endure it. When you think of the trauma that life is for most of us, this idea is totally understandable. There is only one problem. This is the only life – my only life in this consciousness. Nothing is true unless I deem it so. If I see life as pain, a collection of endless failures, it is. Conversely, if I view it as a great adventure on a path to personal achievement, it can be this instead.
Noticing the little things
I recently experienced a morning that I had to get somewhere in a hurry — a common occurrence for all of us, I am sure. This necessitated the proverbial “mad rush.” I paid absolutely no attention to my immediate surroundings — with the exception of looking presentable. I was focused on my goal. Everything appeared to be a mere blur as it passed by. In the foreground was a long light that “I had to make” if I were to be on time. The gods were against me, however. The light shone a dull red as I approached the junction. It was as if to say, “Stop: catch the moment.”
The escape to find yourself and other adventures
I am old enough to remember a time that communication was on foot. It was virtually impossible to phone a girl, so you had to go to her house, knock on the back door (the front being too audacious) and inquire if she was at home. No one can ever forget the prying eyes of the grandmother seated beside the stove in the kitchen. Being a bit bookish, my imagination easily pulled me back to 19th century Britain and the physically-gnawing coal fields of Eastwood Nottinghamshire, the birthplace of D.H. Lawrence. (1885-1930)
Continue reading The escape to find yourself and other adventures
Not every day is a good day
You awaken poorly: another day, dull and confused. It is raining outside — bleak and cold. The day feels portentous. You are suddenly beset with the existential questions of life: how do I find the path that is rumored to be in front of me – how do I uncover my life mission? We can all identify with these kinds of days, I am sure. Curiously: it is this seeking, this quest that keeps us alive and imaginative. The most heart-rending statistic is that less and less individuals can begin seeking because their daily needs are barely met.