I am but a tiny grain of sand on an infinite beach, or desert maybe. The “infinite” makes it difficult to know for sure because the old metaphor never specifically defines the roll of “an ocean” in the mix. If we are just talking about “sand” it could be an endless Sahara Desert; makes me thirsty just thinking about it. A beach as seen by some is the most amazing strip of Real estate in the universe. We’ve all heard, “I could never live without the ocean nearby!” For others it’s sand in the crack, sunburn and “It’s cool, but I’ll take the mountains!” As for the desert, I’ve never met someone who saw this geographically threatening environment as the be all and end all of permanent residences, so for the purpose of out metaphor above I’m going with desert, ha!
Anyway, (The use of the non-word “anyways” is one of my only grammatical pet peeves. Not sure why that one stuck in my craw but when I hear it said out loud my fists involuntarily clench and I taste metal in my mouth)…So anyway, maybe we are grains of sand, whatever. I love the fact that in that light neither we nor the things we do hold much importance. Puts things in a humility based perspective framework right? The funniest part about that is that if your ego is anything like mine the first words out of its loudmouth are “Bull Shit!” Well “Whatever” to that crap too! Despite it’s best intentions the ego is often the “desert,” wishing it were a “beach.”
We are complex vessels of potentially self-torture inducing duality hurtling through a desert or a beach or a glass factory for all we know, and soon enough we suddenly find ourselves lacking the consciousness to wrestle with the beach/desert conundrum. We are gone, in the blink of an eye, the same length of a blink we rode in on, and 99.9% percent of the sand grains in the universe will never even knew we had crystallized.
Opening the cosmic door, reaching into the void and pulling back a handful of “meaning” is the greatest adventure, balancing act, magic trick, win around. We construct lives made out of our individual interpretations of “meaning,” pure and simple. We make them up. Are they real? Does any of this matter? Prove that it doesn’t, and I’ll give you some silica.
This holiday weekend I’ve had a lot of time to think about the problems in my life. I’ve also spent time wrapping my consciousness around my many blessings. Life is spectacular even as I struggle with some massively disconcerting and potentially life-changing issues that are beyond my control. Welcome back to the cosmic door, which it turns out is not unlike Forrest Gump’s box of chocolates. We never know what we are going to get, but I do know this. I am here now, today, stretching to stand tall in my little sand suit. I am so grateful for my family and friends, teachers, past loves, the grocery clerk who always smiles when I come in, the homeless man singing on his usual corner at the 2nd Ave overpass, and you my reader friends for being kind enough to accompany me on this greatest of adventures. xo