What I have figured out so far: part 1
July 27, 2019 § 4 Comments
The bad stuff, the scary stuff, resides in the remembered past or the imagined future. The moment we are in is safe, almost always. The take-away is, live in this moment.
Habit shapes a life. A sedimentary process, habit lays down layer after layer. Just as sedimentation creates rock, habit adds up to something solid and enduring.
A small change, over time, can alter the course of a life. It begins as a slight bump, that causes a nearly imperceptible change in direction, but over time the angle widens and life goes somewhere completely different, unplanned. The change may be unobserved until you look back, shade your eyes and see the pebble way back there in your past that caused that slight deviation—and here you are, miles from where you thought you were going.
The smallest part can stand in for the whole. One flower with one insect walking on one petal can embody the wonder of nature in its entirety.
Ego blinds. It causes a person to see everything through the lens of self. It is like that old joke: “But enough about me! Now tell me, what do you think about me?”
Ego is the primary tool in the kit of survival. It justifies snatching something for the self that would benefit whoever snatches it first.
Boredom is the source of all great ideas. A mind, when even slightly entertained, won’t bother to come up with something innovative. The mind is lazy and is just fine with idling and watching puppy videos.
There is a peaceful calm that comes with age as long as the din of an aching body doesn’t shout down that calm.
With one exception, we are, and will always remain, separate from each other. We come together—and then we walk away, each gathering our observations independently. Humanity is a long playing-out of the fable of the blind men and the elephant. Each of us puts a hand on a different part of the elephant and calls what we have touched reality.
The exception: When we first fall in love our separateness seems to vanish. It is the only time when another person makes perfect sense to us, the only time we feel that we are understood perfectly by another human being. As amazing and reassuring as that feeling is, I am not sure it comes from a genuine oneness. It seems more likely the euphoric oneness serves a biological purpose–but isn’t it grand?
We pay too much attention to human life, too little to the vast choir of life that sings all around us. If only we’d wake up to the wonder that lives just outside our front door.
Note: I get up each morning and write about what is on my mind. This is a page from my “Morning Pages” notebook. My interest in what I’d figured out went on for several mornings (and spared me the daily ritual of wondering what I was thinking about and wondering if I was thinking anything at all). So, there will be more.