Make pain a friend, and you will have no enemies.
When the truth of the myth of Sisyphus comes to light…
what choice do we have, but to love the rock?
Nine years ago we built a tree fort. My oldest son started the project. His younger brother and I join in. The three of us finished it together. Nestled in a towering Maple tree it made for a great lookout, outdoor cafe, and hideaway.
Today I dismantled the weathered, and in some areas rotting lumber and slowly but surely landed all the pieces without knocking my ladder out from under me.
It finally hit me. The removal of the tree fort was symbolic in that today my youngest leaves home for college. As I removed screws, cut straps, and pried free the old timber I was overcome with the realization that an era had come to an end, and going forward life will be changed.
Fare thee well on the adventures of your choosing you wonderful souls.
We’re all just people, unwittingly lugging our damage through life.
With any luck, it ends with us. We discover it, defuse it, and dismantle it. If not, we pass the burden along to the innocent.
Legacy hangs in the balance.
We are who we are, but only for an infinitesimal moment. Change may be happening, if we’re lucky. So we are who we are, but we’re not who we were. Not exactly.
Things that have “always” mattered, at some point stop mattering. We may even pride ourselves on “consistency,” which is commonly held to be admirable but is ultimately impossible. Perhaps it is for the better that consistency is at best a steadied mirage. Immutability can be comforting, but in its soil, nothing grows.
So we are who we are. On a journey that may deliver growth, or abdication, or triumph, or discontent; more likely a combination of some or all of them. At the moment of experiencing any of these possibilities we find ourselves to be “who we are.”
Comfort can be found in the notion that “who we are” is but a momentary flash between who we were, and who we are yet to be.
Deep down, everyone wants to feel loved. It doesn’t seem like a big ask.
Oftentimes, facing our own history, unraveling it, then making peace with it in the present is a necessary first step.
Gazing into the mirror we unknowingly ask, and answer a question in silence, “Am I lovable?”
This unspoken answer serves as subliminal instruction for all those we come across in this lifetime.
Starry starry night. Raging infernos casting tiny lights across the night sky. Cool to our eyes they are, but at their cores emotionless, cataclysmic turmoil roils to near infinity. All that they may exist and, that others who exist may experience their communal gathering as a hunter, a scorpion, a ram or a guiding light to the north.
So much energy, so much creation, so much destruction, and for what? Is it better to burn out than to fade away? Perhaps. The life of a star is predictable, like the life of a human. Birth, growth, temporary stability and ultimately death.
Light from without, a star, in our galaxy, the sun, draws the eye, warms the flesh, and the soul.
What about light from within? Is it a myth? Surely not as many have documented their experience of it in song and prose. If we’ve never felt it how can it be found? Once found how can it be sustained. Is this inner light like that of a star; explosive, tumultuous, destined to consume itself? At times this would seem the case.
When a fire ignites it may burn white hot, for a time, but like all fires it is destined to run its course. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Out of the ashes of many fires may come a new perspective on the nature of what it means to bring light to one’s life. Perhaps the raging of a sun doomed to extinguish becomes a burden. Perhaps instead the desire for light, or meaning, sheds the thought of creation through destruction, and instead leans into a less brilliant yet more sustainable goal. In this desire for light without conflict we may in time become phosphorescent.
Dissatisfaction sings an alluring siren’s song in the mental cocktail lounge of life.
Many a patron has run aground hypnotized by the sweet melody of her maliciously delicious vocal stylings.
Independence [ in-di-pen-duhns ]
Definition: Freedom from the control, influence, support, aid, or the like, of others.
Freedom [ free-duhm ]
Definition: The state of being free or at liberty rather than in confinement or under physical restraint.
Society [ suh-sahy-i-tee ]
Definition: An organized group of persons associated together for religious, benevolent, cultural, scientific, political, patriotic, or other purposes.
Coexistence [ koh-ig-zis-tuhns ]
Definition: A policy of living peacefully with other nations, religions, etc., despite fundamental disagreements.
Survival [ ser-vahy-vuhl ]
Definition: The act or fact of surviving, especially under adverse or unusual circumstances.
We are wrong much, or most of the time.
A good deal of what we call action is more likely reaction.
Apologies have magical healing powers.
Forgiveness is not always easy, but always freeing.
Life is short…or long depending on how each moment is played.
Have a nice day.