"In my walks, every man I meet is my superior in some way, and in that I learn from him."- Ralph Waldo Emerson
There seems to be a recurring topic that continues to come up in my life—the balance between contentment and goals. Do I appreciate what I have, and am I working towards something meaningful that forces me to grow? An either/or approach never works. On one hand, you lend yourself to apathy and stagnation. On the other, you live under the tyranny of nothing ever being enough, endless striving that costs you something you never intended. I don't pretend to have this figured out. Every once in a while, I sense the alignment between the two within myself, but it's normally a fleeting moment followed by the pendulum tipping back towards one side.
There are moments when I long for an answer, clarity, inspiration, relief, or hope and receive nothing. Even in earnest seeking, eager anticipation, a proper posture, an open heart, a willing spirit—nothing. Then there are moments when I receive an answer, clarity, inspiration, relief, and hope when I least expect it. Not seeking, not anticipating, yet a glimpse is given. So what to conclude?
If the idea of selling everything and living out of a backpack on the road sounds like a nightmare instead of a grand adventure, this post might not be for you. If challenging the status quo and questioning societal norms in the pursuit of a full and satisfying life sounds intriguing, then let's continue. The beauty of friendship is that conversations tend to draw out aspects of yourself that otherwise would have been left untouched and dormant, or at the very least overlooked or ignored.
Someone asked me recently why I'd been writing less these days. It's been a transitional, busy, challenging few months, I ashamedly admitted. As I reflect back on that answer over this cherished long weekend, I realize now the distractions are our life. They're not some disruption or interruption. They're the building blocks of who we are and what we are becoming, and the moment we choose to look at them as the obstacle instead of the teacher, we start to miss it. And I've been missing it lately...
We sat down to eat fish tacos on top of the mattress box in the middle of our living room. We are still getting settled in, but the makeshift table worked great. Before we could take a bite, a fire truck zoomed up in front of our neighbor's house. There wasn't a fire, so we assumed it was paramedic services. We stood by the window, red flashing lights pouring into the living room, and wondered what sort of tragedy might be occurring on the other side of the road. We never found out.
This isn't the end of the world, and this isn't something to ignore. That's paraphrasing one of the better commentaries I've listened to, and as end-time "prophets" are starting to chime in, maybe it's a good reminder to examine not only the facts but our own heart in this matter. I sat on my back deck Saturday morning, observing the squirrels and birds going about their business. Jumping from tree to tree, gathering twigs for a nest, collecting food to eat—they're immune from the international worry we are surrounded by.
Have you ever passed a police officer and immediately thought, "Oh shoot, was I speeding? I hope I don't get pulled over." You pray the lights don't flip on, and the further you move away the more relieved you feel. But when it's someone else "driving like a maniac," we want the full force of the law to rain down on them. I remember recently wishing justice upon a guy who was riding my tail and cutting people off. "I sure hope he gets pulled over," I thought to myself.
If you've ever tried to build a fire by simply lighting logs, it didn't take you long to realize it just doesn't work. Aside from throwing gasoline on it, it has to start small—kindling, twigs, sticks—then build. It's easy to get frustrated, especially if the fire is the one thing promising you heat in the near future. We often ignore the process under pressure. We want quick fixes. Instant heat. Roaring flames from nothing. Once the foundation is built, a raging fire will consume just about anything, even wood that's wet. It's a lot easier to maintain than to build, too. We know that's true in most areas of life.
Have you ever met someone you immediately had a meaningful connection with? What about a whole group of people? I was reminded last week that a little bit of vulnerability can turn complete strangers into good friends.
Is there ever a more appropriate time to warn of the dangers of comparison and envy than the holidays? The most curated, edited versions of our lives are on display for all to see like never before in the history of humankind. Don't get me wrong, I love seeing your families, delicious food, presents, trips, and more. "It's the most wonderful time of the year." I'm no Scrooge/Grinch. This time of the year can bring a quiet darkness, though, for many. It's a darkness I believe is exacerbated by the glossy, personal PR campaigns that provide online, addictive platforms like Facebook and Instagram free content.
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