The future is unknown but it is never as scary as people make it out to be.
The winter always gives way to spring. The economy always finds ways to correct itself and you will always get new opportunities to start something, to finish what you started, perhaps as far back as a child, and thats because there is a natural, unheard heartbeat in all of creation.
There is a natural order to everything and there’s no reason to fear anything.
So don’t be afraid.
Take the next corner.
Take the corner with confidence.
Turn that corner because there will be others, even better ones.
Life is not a game of checkers. You cannot just skip your way from one square to another. You can’t queen yourself. You have to take a corner, or you will never get to the next.
You were born so you could live, and this is true despite the dying bit.
Dying is not easy, and it is more than a little ironic.
We were born so that one day we would die. Thats all there is to it. Simple.
The meaning of it all gets a little complicated.
We were born with nothing and we will leave with nothing. We are free to use anything you find in the sandbox, but remember that it’s not your sandbox. No matter how good you are at building sand castles, you have to leave it all behind.
In the process of bracing for our certain curtain call, many of us forget to live.
We forget to suck the marrow out of life. To push beyond our own mental limitations. We forget to do what gives us great joy and meaning.
Our fears and those nagging voices in our head desperately long for security. They delude us into thinking that all will be fine if we learn to play it safe. If we avoid turning corners. If we stay on our familiar street. If we do this or that. If we save a bit, borrow a bit, or invest a little. It will all turn out alright if we just store enough canned goods in our nuclear bunker. Everything will be just fine.
But it won’t.
A life lived and toiled for mere comfort and security is a lie.
A life lived in fear is not a life.
We watch in millions and marvel at the world of The Walking Dead, but we don’t see others, when we pass through them. We don’t realize that when we take to the streets, we are among the living dead.
People that are alive but not quite living.
Not quite dead, but not alive either.
Elenor Rigby and Father McKenzie.
A truly sad sight to behold.
This is why you must turn that corner.
Make your way around the bend.
Fear not and get moving.
Life lives there.
Around the bend.
Your dreams hang out in undiscovered part of town.
It’s terribly easy to imagine a bright future, just as it is regret and contemplate the wasted past. The could have been, should have been, might have been.
Change is unappreciated.
Accepting change is the key to everything. Because everything that surrounds us, is in a state of constant motion and every action, no matter how big or small, has an equal and opposite reaction. It’s Newton’s third law. Every choice a consequence. Every push has a pull.
And when we cannot change we feel stuck.
Stuck in our lives.
Stuck in the quicksand of our own making.
We cannot lose weight. We can’t find time to exercise. We cannon summon the courage to leave our abusive husbands and we don’t have time to slow down.
It’s because we don’t lead with our minds.
We are lead by the herd.
We only respond to the herd.
We trade our autonomy for promises of comfort and than we wait for signs.
Signs that its time.
Signs that we’re ready.
Sings that we won’t make a mistake.
So when the heard begins to change, we begin to change.
When they move, we move.
When they make resolutions, we make resolutions.
When word reachers us that our friend or a colleague has garnered some success, we dust ourselves off and resume our tired old journey towards our dreams.
That life we forgot.
The life we abandoned.
The life we put on hold, for someday and inconveniently forgot.
Our problem is that we don’t lead with our mind.
I was there.
Not so very long ago too.
I’m still there at times, when I forget.
Sometimes, I feel like my will is getting torn in a million different directions. Just as I settle into one thing, something else rises on the horizon, and displaces me.
Steals my time.
But through it all, I have remembered to lead with my mind.
Over a year ago I made a choice to be a writer.
A professional writer.
A writer that writes every day.
Someone who has made a commitment for at least the next five years.
To write. To be self published. To stop hiding and become visible.
And to see how things shake out.
This wasn’t an easy choice.
It’s never easy to write. It’s never convenient to write.
It’s never easy to do anything that matters.
So sharing my thoughts feels very joyous and cathartic, but it’s not without moments of doubt. Doubts creep up. Sometimes they are fast and furious. Sometimes they linger.
Doubts about the usefulness of my work. Doubts of being good enough. Fears of being publicly shamed and exposed as the fraud immigrant I sometimes feel myself to be.
I have doubts because I have always made spelling mistakes.
I have doubts because I make grammatical mistakes.
I have doubts because my syntax may not be too sexy at times.
I sometimes get long winded, on go on a long journey with one of my stories.
But despite these doubts I still choose to write.
I made a commitment to my work and that doesn’t make me special but it does make me a writer.
A good or bad writer is up to you.
I am realizing a childhood dream, inspired by my father and mother, who encouraged me long ago, but life got in the way.
And so today I lead with my mind.
Every day I keep a promise to myself.
A promise to a little boy.
I write and ship each day.
For better or for worse.
I will write.
And I write for you because I hope you’ll lead with your mind too.
There is really nothing like it.
Nothing that makes you feel more human. More alive. More connected.
So abandon the the ugly idea that we are all just living on a thin raft. That our resources are scarce. That nobody wants to share or support one another. Yes, some questionable characters, of which there are a few, do try to horde and control everything, but all empires eventually die away, and nobody, no matter how powerful, lasts forever. Bu all little voices eventually get heard, and more often than not make a great deal of difference in the world.
Just ask yourself what you would like to read. Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kempf, which was forced on an entire nation, or Anne Frank’s, very private, Diary of a Young Girl, which was never meant to see the light of day?
I hope you get my point?
There is plenty of room for all of us.
So what are you waiting for?
Life will not send you an invitation.
You were thrust into this world, without permission, so consider that your one and only invitation. Your birth was a marvellous initiation into the magical possibilities of things. A prelude to the meaning of anything and everything you put your mind into.
I want to know what you think, how you see the world, and what you’ve been through. I would like to see what you can contribute to the already strong chorus of human voices everywhere.
There is no reason to be discouraged by the many voices. There are many, bu just because there are many voices, and just because some are better than others, doesn’t mean that your voice is not important, or that it can’t strengthen and add value to the chorus.
Life is not meant to be a solo performance. Far from it.
The one individual is really nothing without her choir, without a drummer, or a metronome. Someone has to keep time. Fill the room with passion. Without the we, there would be no need for you. There would be no need for anyone.
Yet, here you are, full of untapped potential, sitting and waiting for permission to decide if this is the moment. If this is indeed your expected turn.
Your hand is up. Way up. It’s been up for a long while.
You’ve waved it. Stretched it as far as it will go.
You momentarily brought it down for a rest, but briefly as not to be overlooked once again.
You’ve held your hand tirelessly.
You’ve waited and waited and waited for something to happen.
Stop thinking that there’s no room or place for you in this world.
That your life, your work, or your contribution don’t really matter or is insignificant.
Stop comparing yourself to others.
You cannot see what they have been through or what it costs them to do what they do. Only they know, and the only thing you should ever take away from their life, is their spirit of determination, and their tenacity to create something.
You’re not limited and trapped. You’re not useless. There is plenty of everything you’ll ever need.
No. Its not magic. It’s not instant.
You’re not going to find a benevolent benefactor or wise Jedi master to guide you through your struggles and dreams.
But I promise you, that if you start walking forward towards something. If you dare to make a push, you will find always what you need. It’s an abundant place out there. Full of people that will surprise you and help you along the way.
I want to fly, and my dreams have been gloriously reawakened.
It has taken me far too long to think it through. It has taken far too long to embrace. Thankfully, however, I am fortunate, that there is plenty of time to see it through.
I want to fly.
No doubt about it.
Having never flown before, I am well aware of the risks. Even if I wasn’t, there are many kind, or seemingly kind people, who are willing to point those dangers out to me. To discourage me and you for that matter, from flying too close to the sun. From dreaming. From trying. From living an vigorous life, instead of watching from a distance. A life of timid but safe observer.
After almost five decades of listening to people, you get to a point in your life where you stop caring about the risks. You stop giving some rats behind about what people say. Stop caring about the seemingly inevitable calamities that lie in wait. How embarrassing it will be. How humiliated you will feel.
You begin to trust and use the wings that you were born with. You become empowered by them. You marvel how they have grown in strength over the years, despite the fact that they have never seen high winds.
You begin to anticipate and dream about your moment.
The moment when you excitedly nudge yourself forward, toward the precipice of possibilities. Hoping you will not change your mind. Hoping for the beautiful things to come. Hoping you won’t waste any more time and will now, right now, summon the courage to leap.
You should fly too.
Fly towards your dreams. Fly to places of unseen opportunities. Fly with people you would otherwise never have a chance to meet.
After all, you’re not flying away from something, but to the contrary. You are flying towards something. Something new. Something meaningful. Something absolutely magical.
Staying grounded is safe and comfortable.
But you were not built for safety and comfort.
You are governed by powerful inner voices, for sure, like your conscience, so that you don’t do anything truly stupid (anymore), but outside of those few mishaps during those college years and beyond, you were always meant to be great.
You were meant to be a force to be reckoned with.
And you can’t cause trouble, walking around, half asleep or semi awake, definitely fully confused, waiting for a sign, hoping for a push, and being content with so very little.
So, come fly with me.
Ignore the dangers of flying too close to the sun and realize the agony of flying too close to the ground or not flying at all. Of giving up, and not making any effort to share your gifts with others.
I will fly alone, but I prefer some company.
The sky is a big, majestic space, full of infinite possibilities.
With room for everyone.
But those possibilities won’t come to you. You must come to them.
I feel sad and nauseated because I haven’t leapt before. I wasn’t willing to work hard enough, long enough, and I quit way too early, before I could embrace my dreams. But as despondent and stomach-churning as this reality is, I think it would be unforgivable and indefensible, to believe that it’s too late for me now.
It would be unforgivable and indefensible for you too.
Time moves forward and for this reason it is never too late.
Never too late to let go of our fear.
Never too late to ignore the negative chatter that binds us to our insecurities.
We habitually waver, especially when it comes to making our best work. The insistent noise coming from the outside world is never warm and fuzzy. The keyboard warriors are always looking to spill some blood, but that only accounts for a small part of the truth. What is more telling is the fact that we are our own saboteurs. We are responsible for some pretty nasty maneuvering. We go to great lengths to hide away from the world. We are our worst critic.
We constantly compare our ourselves to others. We needlessly match our gifts against those of others. We overthink things and micro analyze our motivation, including the technical execution of the work we do. We always try to sniff out if it’s any good.
This leads us to a whole bunch of nothing. Nothing, because we rarely share anything meaningful we’ve created with strangers. We only offer a little sneak peak, to friends and family, and nothing more.
We keep perpetually revising and reediting. Hiding. Destroying. Hiding some more. Starting again, from the beginning.
We are never done.
Yet our best work, is our finished work.
This is so important.
A half-baked apple pie is not a pie. A bunch of disconnected chapters of a book, does not a novel make. A sweater with only one arm, is somewhat under warming.
As a society, we have become somewhat accustomed to always being in the middle of something. Not quite there but too far in to go back. Afraid of the consequences. Afraid of what people will think. Afraid that we’ll be discovered for the fraud that we think that we are.
But its our finished work that matters.
Our finished work is our best work.
It is our best work, but that doesn’t mean it’s perfect. It doesn’t mean we will receive praise and a purchase order, it only means that its fit for human consumption, or for wearing out in public. The praise and the accolades are bound to come later.
Our finished work is our best work because in it lies our courage to let people see what we’ve made and who we are. We dared to contribute to the mosaic of human conversation.
It takes great courage to share your work with the world.
And only in sharing can you hope to receive meaningful feedback.
Perhaps not right away.
Yes, the keyboard warriors will most certainly be first to sling some mud and vile words in your direction. It’s not personal. Without the mud or the slinging, they might actually have to do something constructive with their lives. They might have to create something, and this scares them to no end. They find false comfort in the war of words, by imagining the world needs to be protected from itself.
In time, meaningful feedback will come.
Your best work, if you dare to finish it, will receive some meaningful criticism. Criticism that will help you make your next work better. You’ll have time and the experience to bake a better pie. Or to add a sleeve to your sweater. Or to develop a more complete and memorable story.
You have to finish something.
Gather up all your half-baked and forgotten ideas and get to work.
Trying to do everything or anything is a trap for perfectionists and procrastinators alike. The former works with great intensity, but never gets anywhere, because there is always everything to do. And the latter, gets nothing done, because they are never ready, forever waiting, never feeling good enough, for anything.
Anything is like foolishly grasping for a cow’s teat in the dark, when you know, you’re lactose intolerant.
Everything is simply unrealistic and stupid.
So, go and do something.
Something doesn’t have to be perfect, but you do have to begin.
You have to begin today.
Remember, that you don’t have to be great to begin, but you do have to begin in order to be great. (Zig Ziglar)
So, start right now.
Find something to do. Something purposeful. Something meaningful. Something that will reimagine your life and give you a second childhood.
How, you say?
It doesn’t matter.
Think back to your early years and begin there. Look for your dreams. Look for any forgotten pinky swears. Look for things you promised you would do. Look for something that you might have forgotten, which made you feel so good inside. So happy. So alive. So divinely human.
On a piece of paper, perhaps in a stream of consciousness, write down anything and everything that comes to mind. Somewhere in the distorted anythings and everythings, you will find your something.
You will discover your something. Your purpose. Your new direction.
I had forgotten how much I loved to write.
For the last eighteen years, I devoted myself to teaching young people how to become better writers and thinkers, but in the process, of making a very comfortable living, I forgot to write myself.
I found my something.
I’m at the beginning steps of writing something. A hesitant beginning towards something great.
I don’t know where I am going, or what I am really doing, but when I look around, I see painters, musicians, and other writers, doing their thing, every day.
Writing is difficult enough, and to be rewarded and blessed by making a living at it, is infinitely more so.
Part of me is scared and uncertain but I have carefully avoided the trap of everything and anything. I have begun. Begun to do something.
This blog is my something. Quintessential Quotables and Diggin’ Ditches is the next thing.
I write every day.
I reach my word count. I ship it, and awkwardly begin the process of telling the world about it.
My steps are unsure, reserved, cautious, but purposeful.
My hope for you, is that you do something too.
It really doesn’t take much, to do something. To do something every day.
To dream. To plan. To learn. To be and do.
Don’t get overwhelmed with everything and settle for anything.
Become something. Dream something. Dig something. Fall in love with something.
You probably see winter. Blizzards. White out conditions. Accidents. Slippery roads. Fast and dangerous drivers weaving in and out of traffic.
I see snow.
But I’m not blind to what you see.
I drive the same roads. In the same weather conditions. With the same time constraints, and I get lapped, by the same reckless drivers.
But I choose and want to gaze at the snow.
The fluffy, beautiful, falling snow.
But it wasn’t always like this.
There was a time, a long period of time too, when I was unable to be comfortable with myself, and refused to let go of the many stories, which I falsely invented about myself. Stories that held me back, like quicksand. That demanded way too much of my life, and left me completely exhausted.
There was a time when I resembled the walking dead. A time when I was not alive.
I did not know happiness. Or understood that I was not determined by my environment.
I became a human being that has learned artfully how to bend, to bend low, and bend often, but no longer a creature, that could not help himself and break.
And so, I now see the snow.
I see one snow flake anxiously following another, in very rapid succession and purpose. Falling on trees, on the cold pavement, or on anything and everything in its sights.
Relentless. Unapologetic. Unconcerned with what we think of it.
I see snow.
I hope you do too.
Many of us become stuck in what the psychiatrist, Dr. Viktor Frankl called, the existential vacuum.
We become trapped in a dense darkness. Not a suicidal type of darkness, an emotionally painful darkness, but the type of darkness that confounds many brilliant astronomers. The darkness of space and time, where nothing exists, and nothing happens.
All of us. Without exception.
At some point, inevitably, absolutely, and sometimes, a few times over, we face this existential vacuum, despite our stubbornness.
When we are born we are given this task, to figure out why we are here. To figure out what being alive is all about.
We are on a quest to figure out what makes life worthwhile.
What makes her meaningful.
Perhaps we are here to see the snow. Or ignore it, and see instead, the havoc that snow gets blamed for.
That is the true indicator, you are smack in the middle of an existential vacuum.
You have nothing to do. Or you have so much to do, that you can do nothing.
You have no time for yourself or for anything that matters.
You’ll do it later, of course. When you have more money. More time. When you retire. When your kids grow up. When your husband changes. When they elect a new president.
You are satisfied to live a life of exhaustion. Numbing repetition. Confusion and full of anxiety.
You’ve settled for a life without excitement.
A life with traffic accidents, but a life without snow.
When was the last time you let a snowflake land on your hand and gazed at it like a child?
Saw the stars? Visited your grandmother who is imprisoned with dementia? Were kind to your ex-wife? Or were understanding of the pressures your children’s face at school?
When was the last time you were truly excited about something? Couldn’t sleep because you couldn’t wait to get up and get going in the morning?
Ate meals to fuel your body, instead of to simply pleasure and soothe your mind?
I see snow.
I see things that I missed for decades.
I am excited about living again, to the point that I’m worried I will burst.
I hope you don’t have to wait that long, to get excited too.
I hope you get to see what for so long, choose not to see.
Funny in the sense that while we all believe truth exists, the actual colour, shape, and form it holds, is often filtered through our own, limited, best guess scenario, set of assumptions. We hinder and distort reality by the very fact that we don’t know everything. We can’t know everything.
This is magical in a sense, because in a world of science, there are no surprises.
We distort our reality by being human. Gloriously human. We fail to see right because we are limited by the very square space from which we gaze upon the truth. That little piece of the whole, which we call our experience, which always distorts what we see, creates what we want to see, yet it is the only way we can derive any of our understanding in the first place.
And its magical.
I understand that our distorted understanding of the truth is very vexing for everyone. We are all shuffling our feet in total darkness, holding on to a different piece of the elephant, arguing with each other who is right.
Our limited version of the truth, which in our defence is all we were given, can create some unpleasant confusion, and lead to serious frustration.
When we share what we think we see with others, we are putting ourselves on a collision course to be seriously misunderstood.
We are putting ourselves on a path to clash with other people’s versions of reality, and their own prickly little insensibilities.
This is why it is socially forbidden to talk about politics or religion at parties, with people of good social standing.
This is silly I think, because they are the most important of all the subjects, which is probably why people are willing to die for their truth, something which they are not willing to do for a nice piece of cherry pie. Not unless it is a really, really good piece of pie.
Religion tries to deal with why we are here, and what the ultimate purpose of our existence might be, while politics, on the other hand, deals with how we are to justly govern ourselves, what we have to do to live meaningful lives, and how to better care for the vulnerable.
Or so they should anyhow.
A bit philosophical perhaps, but our perception of how we see what is real is funny nonetheless.
Let’s turn to you.
What about your reality?
What about the truth of how you see yourself and where you are going?
Do you have the courage at any time in the day to look yourself in the mirror? To have a good look. Do you have the valour to gaze into your own eyes? Your windows to your very soul?
What will you find there?
Pain? Regret? Sorrow?
Words of hate and admonition for yourself? Voices from the past hurling hateful epitaphs in your direction?
Or will you find joy?
Peace? Forgiveness? Unused blueprints of some abandoned dreams?
Perhaps some faith and hope? Some love?
Words of encouragement and understanding? Voices from the future calling you towards something greater than yourself?
If truth and reality is not as reliable as we were taught to think it is, when we were children, wouldn’t it make more sense to shape it, the way we want reality to appear?
If other people will not understand or will misinterpret your, is that a good reason to capitulate or abandon your dreams, or give up trying?
I mean, if you are too blind and unsatisfied with the piece of the elephant you are currently holding, wouldn’t it make more sense, instead of arguing or getting angry about it, to simply suck it up and stumble in the darkness, to look for another piece to hold.
A piece that perhaps feels a little better? Suits your life a little more?
Reality is very cold, calculating, and most scientific.
But we as artists are born to wrap it up, in our own warm blanket of technicolour.
To shape things how we want them to be. To shape our own destiny.
Reality really doesn’t matter much. People will see what they want to see. Truth will not be offended by the choices you make, one way or another.
In the future, you will change your mind how things were a thousand times. You will reshape and thinking of what you remember a million ways.
You are bound to forget.
So, forget who you think you are today. Erase what other people think you are.
Don’t be afraid to stumble in the dark.
Keep circling that elephant and stop arguing who is right.
His words and heart felt wisdom continue to haunted me. They have haunted me ever since I heard him for the first time, in the brilliantly magnificent documentary, simply titled; Human.
(Not only human, but Human).
Forget binge-watching whatever is on your list and see it for free online.
His words were planted inside my mind a while ago. They have grown much and continue to sober me up.
I am grateful for his candor and his message. His suffering and his call to happiness.
If you are not familiar with Jose Mujica, you should know that he was the president of Uruguay from 2010 to 2015, but prior to that, he led quite the life and suffered as farmer, a freedom fighter, a prisoner, for over ten years, and a hostage.
Today he preaches the philosophy of sobriety.
Not an easy idea to embrace or sell in North America.
A consumer society, in a progressively vicious battle between a culture of life and the culture of death.
Sobriety is somewhat contrary to our materialistic, consumer wants and desires. Somewhat sobering, as we recover from our New Year’s celebrations, and the universal hangover that slowly dissipates from our collective consciousness.
Somehow, I don’t believe there are many people are ready to listen, but they should.
We need to study the philosophy of sobriety.
I think its best you hear Jose Mujica for yourself, but I while I have you here I will guide you through some of his insights, if for no other reason than some safekeeping.
I take no credit for any of his thoughts. They are his ideas. Earned through years of suffering. Years of meditation. Years of practice.
I only offer a bit of commentary. Because as brilliant as they are in their own right, without my words and yours, they will never spread. And they should.
They need to spread deep. The need to fly far and wide.
Deep into every human soul. Into every crevice of your mind.
You need to take it easy on yourself. Stop beating yourself up for not having or not doing what you imagined you should be doing by this point.
You are not a cog in a wheel. You are not a drunken sailor.
But you do need to renew your love affair with life.
You need to fall in love with the act of being, and it can’t be done half assed or on a part time basis. At some point, and hopefully this happens for you really soon, you will dare to leap. To jump, go all in, and finally embrace, once and for all, everything, in its totality, and allow the act of living to permeate your life.
“Either you’re happy with very little, free of all the extra luggage, because you have happiness inside, or you don’t get anywhere!”
You don’t need to get anywhere.
You have everything you need.
You either have it already, or if you lack something, it is readily available to you. It is not easy to get, of course. Worthwhile things are never quick or easy, but they are abundantly available. The problem is that most people never try, but they are yours, if you only reach out and take the time to look for them.
Ask and it will be given you. Seek and you shall find. Knock and the door will be open.
This is not a call for a life of poverty. It is an invitation for sobriety.
Jose Mujica believes that we have either invented, or else, inherited a consumer society, and a progressively sick mind. A society that today, probably feels a bit exhausted, from all those Black Friday deals, and Boxing Day sales. I bet there are many poor souls who are probably not even clear headed enough to realize, that those credit card bills, that took so little effort to accumulate, will take a lifetime and years of labour, to have disappear.
“When you buy something, you are not paying with money. You are paying with the hours of life you had to spend earning that money”.
Think about that.
Tell me that this is not a sobering thought?
Tell me that this doesn’t change the conversation about the worth of our salaries, and how much time we should be willing to sacrifice to earn that money? Tell me that it doesn’t sober you up, in terms of how you spend your life earning a living?
“The difference is, that life, is one thing money can’t buy”.
You will never get more time.
You can’t buy it, but you can always find a new way to earn a little more.
Hell, leaving the country and converting all your dollars into some pesos, for example, would create a whole new reality in your life, if you were willing to be a global citizen, and not just a Canadian one.
Our school system doesn’t help either.
The ‘normal school’ is nothing more than an old, worn out, industrial factory, nudging students into three pathways, so they can become very dutiful consumers, or at the very least, won’t become a financial burden to our society.
“Human beings may be the only animals capable of self-destruction”.
It doesn’t take much effort, or thought for that matter, to realize how true this is. It doesn’t take much time to come to grips with the truth how often we become our own worst enemy. Hindering and spoiling our own happiness, instead of living in the moment.
You are never truly finished.
“You can always pick yourself up again. It’s always worth it, starting from zero again, once, or a thousand times, so long as you’re still alive”.
A thousand times.
A hundred thousand times, a million-million million times.
Your mistakes are never fatal, as long as you continue to have life in you, or the desire to begin again.
Don’t kill your dreams. Don’t let them die.
It is never easy to rise from the ashes, but you have to believe that you can. You have to keep a hint of a spark and always pick yourself up again.
“You are never defeated until you give up the fight”.
And it is never good to give up the fight.
So, keep fighting. Keep kicking. Keep punching.
Don’t let the bastards grind you down.
Keep dreaming. Keep living. Keep hoping.
Rethink what you need. Reimagine what you can’t live without.
See money as a tool and don’t let its love steal your time.
As human animals, we have a unique habit of projecting ourselves into the future. An amazing trick really. We are trained to imagine ourselves in the future, yet can shape our lives in the present, according to our new direction.
We are all very capable of seeing this new, majestic future, so clearly, emerging just over the horizon, and anticipate its glorious days of tomorrow. We use our imagination for that very purpose. We see what tomorrow brings, and excitedly push and pull the present moment, hoping to submit the future into reality.
We try really hard.
We think hard. We feel deep. We work. We learn. We toil.
We cross our t’s and dot our i’s. We purchase insurance. We invest. We save.
Yet life makes other plans.
Life happens when we are busy making other plans.
This used to frustrate me to no end. This frail inability of mine, to conjure up my future into reality, had become a tenacious source of remarkable confusion.
The future seemed so coy. To playfully peek and smile around every corner, only to disappear, and hide itself from my sight.
I could touch it. Feel it. Taste it even. It dripped from my tongue, like honey from an overproducing hive, in a bulging honeycomb, ready for the cold days of winter.
Yet, it was not meant to be.
And yet, I’ve been better for it.
I’m not sure why we are here and our illustrious human history doesn’t help.
It seems to be nothing more than a stark reminder of the inhumanity of one person to another. Endless arguing. Endless fighting. Theft. Indecency and indignity. We seem a long way from discovering our purpose and direction in life, with very little progress to come.
But no matter.
Human history doesn’t define us. Life does.
We draw our dignity from every rising sun and every harvest moon. From the end of things, and the joy of new beginnings.
Life humbles us.
It helps us to stay balanced and not feel too high or too low. Too comfortable or too dejected. Too wise or too ignorant.
Life happens when we least expect it.
All our seemingly unsolvable problems eventually disappear. End. Vanish. One way or another. And we always give birth or adopt new ones. We embrace a tomorrow that always comes with new joys and a series of challenges.
Life is worth living.
Unbridled. Unpredictable. Untamed.
Life becomes worth living when you let go and see it for what it is, and embrace it as it comes.
Behold all of it.
It its totality, not its unnatural broken parts.
See it for its glorious totality, and don’t subjugate it into made up fractions and meaningless pieces.
Life happens to us when we are making other plans.
This doesn’t mean you should stop imagining or avoid making other plans.
It simply means that tomorrow will not be like you imagined.
You can’t prepare for it and you should accept it when it comes.
Leap forward. Don’t resist it. Come at tomorrow with an open heart and an open mind. Be ready to turn that corner.