Ah,
the prime organ of life! Our
hearts, real and idealized, are full of vitality, passion, purpose,
love, and
the essence of life itself. But, our hearts are imperfect. They were
made to
eventually give out, to broken in love, to let us down in myriad ways
that are
imcomprehensible.
Still,
we must follow our hearts,
imperfect as they are, because our lives, and all that composes our
lives, is
imperfect. By following our hearts, I mean that we must listen to our
feelings,
thoughts, and ideas. If passion begins in the heart, let us follow it,
wherever
it might lead. If we truly want passion in our lives, we must invest
heavily in
imperfection, mistakes and failures. Passion is not all success in
whatever
endeavor you pursue, be it love or that pinnicle of the professional
ladder.
Passion, rising from and living in our hearts, is full of wrong turns
and
detours, but eventually reaching a final destination, which may be
entirely
different that what you thought it would be when you began your
journey.
Ignore
logic, despise perfection,
and follow the passion in your imperfect heart. The heart is a
marvelous organ,
in either its real or idealistic state. It constantly beats, can
survive many
challenges to it, and will propel you, and your passions, as long as
you live.
Either
everything is a miracle, or
nothing is.
In
the realm of possibilities and
realities, everything that is and everything that happens can be
thought of as
miraculous, or as just happening because “that’s the way
things are”, or
“that’s the way the world works.”
But
to think of everything as a
miracle is to give everything a unique quality, to realize that all
that is and
all that we have is truly a gift freely given by the creative force of
the
Universe. That should inspire us to gratitude. Be grateful for
miracles, large
and small, because they are what compose the world.
It is
a mostly cloudy day and a
little cool. But am I content at this moment. I was sitting on a bench
in the
park across the street from my office and looking at the trees, the
fountain,
the people sitting on other benches and thought, “This is nice,
this is fine,
things are just the way they should be.” Then it dawned on me. I
was content,
and I reveled in it. I didn’t think dire thoughts, or really have
any thoughts
at all. I was just there, existing, being a living, breathing
consciousness.
The lesson that descended on me was that whatever the world is, it is
doing its
own thing, spinning, doing, creating and dying, rebuilding,
rejuvenating, and
that is OK. And I am OK despite pain I may occasionally have, despite
worries
about money, the future, and the daily roll of life that sometimes
throws mud
in our faces. It’s good to be one with the world, for perhaps,
just perhaps,
that’s what contentment is.
Happiness,
and the pursuit of it,
has plagued us since it became a hot topic, thanks to psychiatrists,
self-help
gurus, and anyone else who had an idea on what constitutes happiness
and to
attain it. Recent studies show that the best way to gain happiness is
to
connect and be with other people. Duh? Try being totally alone for over
an
hour, with no connection to another human being. How did that feel? If
you
enjoyed solitude, that’s fine. If you felt lonely, then sad, then
any number of
feelings in that downward spiral, welcome to the opposite of happiness.
When
you are with another person, or a group of people, and are actively
engaged
witih them, how do you feel then? As the existentialist Jean-Paul
Sartre said,
“Hell is other people.” Poor Jean-Paul. It may be he had
lousy friends and
every stranger he met was waste from the Creation. To be with other
people is
why we are here. And that brings us to what I call The Happiness List.
Making
a list of what has made you
happy in the past, as recently as half an hour ago, is a way to
remember and
reflect upon past happiness, a bank upon which you can always make
perpetual
withdrawals and deposits.
Here’s
mine:
Helping
my grandfather in his garden
– digging potatoes, picking sweet corn, washing off scallions in
the rain
barrel and tasting their sweetness, seeing row upon row of blooming
gladiolus.
Riding
my bike down country roads in
the summer.
Soft
chocolate ice cream in the
summer.
Building
snow forts.
Petting
a cat on my lap and
listening to him purr.
Walking
in the woods, seeing where
paths would take me.
Walking
the railroad tracks.
Catching
minnows.
Drinking
ice wine.
Niagara
Falls.
Dinner
cruises.
All
the rivers and lakes of the
place where I live.
Being
married.
Having
pets.
Having
a house to live in.
Having
friends I care about.
Writing
this blog.
And
this is just for starters.
Start
your own happiness list, draw
on it whenever you feel down. Most importantly, seek out others, smile
at
strangers, embrace your friends, touch your loved ones every chance you
get.
Life IS other people.
At
the Hill’s Foundation, and at the Summit
The
greatest gift that has been
bestowed on us is the ability to choose, which is at the foundation of
the
Mountain of Life, our Hill. At the summit of our Hill, is decision, the
result
of choice. We may think of choice as Free Will. In Biblical terms, this
is the
gift God gave Adam and Eve, which led to their becoming truly human
after
eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and being
forbidden
to eat from the Tree of Life and attain immortality.
It is
our ability to choose that
makes life so interesting and enjoyable for most of us. Even those of
us who
suffer from bad feelings ranging all the way to clinical depression
make
choices, even though we may not believe we do, and believe instead that
fate
controls our lives.
We
all make choices daily. Right
now, I have chosen to write these words. Having an infinite variety of
choices
can be confusing – walk down the cereal aisle of your local
supermarket.
What
affects our ability to choose?
Our biological and psychological makeup, our environment, our family
and social
networks, our desires, talents and occupations. Let’s look at
some of these.
Biologically, we have needs that must be met: food, shelter, clothing,
to be
protected and nurtured. We choose what we eat, where we eat, how we
eat. We
choose where to live and what we want our environment to contain. We
choose
what to wear or not wear. We choose whether to to fight or flee; we
choose what
environments, situations, or people offer us safety, comfort, and the
opportunity for growth. There is a plethora of factors in each of
these, but I
believe in the final analysis, choice involves one important factor:
what makes
us feel good, safe, and comfortable. However, when we choose what is
harmful to
us, our psychological makeup and past experiences direct our choices.
So,
what is the conclusion here?
When confronted with as few as two, or with many options, let us choose
what
will be of benefit to us, and perhaps to others. What we choose now
affects the
rest of our lives, and by corollary, the lives of others. Think,
analyze,
choose and decide wisely.
Destinations
make life worthwhile.
We are always in motion, even when we are at rest. Our thoughts propel
us to
action.
First,
we think. Then, we act. We
think and act with a intent or purpose in mind. We may then think of a
destination as akin to a purpose. The word “purpose” can be
a bit murky. We
like to think that each of us has a purpose, or that our lives or life
itself
has a singular purpose. Juxtaposing purpose with destination, we can
clarify
what purpose is. Each thought and action leads to another thought and
action,
and ultimately these lead to a conclusion, or if you will, a
destination.
The
title of this post is “Somewhere
to Go.” Somewhere is the destination we define. Going somewhere
is our purpose.
Doing something is the same. Purposes require action and actions
require
thought. So, whenever you believe you are going nowhere and are stuck,
you
really are not so. Every thought will propel you forward to some
action, even
if that action is to rest.
Therefore,
take heed of your
thoughts, for they will create your actions, and your actions will take
you to
your destination. Your purpose will come to you as you think and act
and will
help you reach your destination.
Most
of the world’s cultures, and
Western culture especially, are linear in nature. That is, their events
and
activities have distinct beginnings and endings and go from point to
point in
one direction. The only exceptions to this linear culture are the
Trobriand
Islanders, who do not accept or use the concept of lineality. Books, as
we know
them, fit quite well into the concept of linear culture. Books have a
two-fold
definition: One, as collected knowledge or experiences; second, as the
cover or
container of that knowledge or experiences. Thus, books are our
stories, as
much as the hunting stories told around fires of humans from our
earliest
times. With our advanced technology, the question arises of what books
are, are
becoming, and should be. Our stories will always want to be told and
shared.
Technology has expanded access to our stories, and has also expanded
the
definition of books. Books in electronic format still retain a
lineality, in
that the stories contained there have a beginning and an end, going in
one
direction from point to point. Is there a Hill of Books? I say there
is. One
must follow a trail, either prescribed, or of one’s own making,
when traversing
the Hill of Books. The Hill of Books exists as the collection of
knowledge or
experience. So, books are part of the linear culture, and perhaps the
reflection of the foundation of it. We will always have books, in one
form or
another, as long as we have linear culture.
Being
able to choose is a wonderful
gift. It seems as though humanity has developed choice to the point of
over-development. We have a gazillion channels to watch on television,
websites
too numerous to count that we can peruse, and the cereal aisle in the
grocery
store rattles my brain. So what do we do when confronted with
overwhelming
choices? I propose to ratchet down choices down to only two: yes or no,
black
or white, up or down, in or out. It may take a lot of winnowing out
other
layers of choices to get down to this basic level, but isn’t an
either/or a lot
better than an Oriental buffet that goes three days beyond a full
stomach?
This
is how I envision coming down
to choosing between two options: Use what I call the “What Would
Happen If”
model. It looks like an inverted pyramid. All your possible choices
about
something are at the top. Your final choice is at the bottom. At each
level as
you descend the pyramid, one possible choice is discarded. This
requires
analysis of what the finally discarded choice involves. When I am faced
with
discarding one choice from many, I ask myself “what would happen
if…” (you can
fill in the blank). Realize that no choice is too unreasonable or
farfetched
not to be analyzed and considered. For instance, let’s take that
Oriental
buffet for our example. If you have chosen your appetizers, main
courses,
vegetables, drink and dessert, but not been able to decide on your
soup, this
is where “what would happen if” comes into play. You can
stretch this exercise
into infinity, but for right now, let’s limit it a bit. For soup,
you have
three choices: wonton, egg drop, and birds nest. Each soup has its good
and bad
qualities, and you must evaluate each and then finally decide, or
choose.
Eventually, birds nest soup is found wanting and is discarded as a
choice. Now
it becomes difficult because wonton and egg drop seem to be equal to
you in
their good qualities. But one quality at last will win out and that
will
probably be the quality that is most important to you. (Gee, this
sounds like
choosing a girlfriend or wife!) At last, you have reached the bottom of
your
inverted pyramid of “What Would Happen If…”. You
have analyzed and evaluated
all your possible choices by asking one question.
As we
journey through life, we have
to ask ourselves when confronted with a choice, “What would
happen if?” And
even you choose not to choose, that is a choice in itself. So, be
grateful for
the great gift of choice. As the poet Edgar Guest said, “You are
the person who
has to decide. Whether you’ll do it or toss it aside; you are the
person who
makes up your mind.”
In
America, it seems fun is spelled
F-U-N. If fun is a hill, it is often challenging to climb,
occasionally
climbers reach the summit, and rarely they stay there for any
long period
of time. Fun comes from intense enjoyment or mirth. Fun, as
a noun,
is rooted in deep-seated desires. It seems we crave a magic
elixir that
will transform us into happy, laughing, smiling beings with no cares or
worries. But is fun the final solution? Let’s think
about what
constitutes fun, and then we can conclude whether it is a worthwhile
goal to
constantly pursue. Getting drunk or high can be fun. Sex
can be
fun. Shopping for different kinds of consumer items can be
fun. Any
activity that heightens your senses can be fun. These activities
are
usually temporary. So, what is better or yields most positive
results
that fun? I feel that “enjoying life” is the way to
go. To me,
enjoyment of life means being fully immersed in the present moment,
from simply
observing your breath, to shrieking on a roller coaster. If
we
visualize the word, enjoyment, we may see someone in a relaxed or
comfortable
state, stretched out, without cares or worries. This may be what
we
really seek instead of a high, or altered state of awareness that may
be
characterized as fun. Pleasure and enjoyment can pretty much be a
constant if we live in the present moment. And fun can happen
with a
small “f” without much effort when pleasure and enjoyment
become our modus
operandi. So, have a life with fun, and have fun with your life.
You’ve
probably heard or read the
maxim about an irresistible force and an immovable object. I will
use
this, in part, to describe Motion and The Hill. When you think
about it,
nothing in the universe is motionless. The Oxford English
Dictionary
gives motion this general definition: the action or process
of
moving or being moved, with respect to place or position, or in terms
of
mathematics, the condition of a body or a mathematical object such as a
point,
line, etc., when at each successive point in time it occupies a
different
position or orientation in space. Thus, we can know that atomic
particles
are always moving. This may be difficult to understand when
looking at a
large object that seems to occupy a permanent place. But consider
how the
elements and the object interact: wind, rain, and snow all act
upon the
object, and are affected by the object. In thinking about The
Hill, we
have an object that may seem motionless, but really is living and
moving.
Inside The Hill are parts so small as to be unseen by the naked eye,
but they
move ever so slightly. As a corollary, consider your own
body.
Under the layers of your skin, there is movement of bone, muscle and
blood. Things do not have to be readily visible to prove that
they move.
It is an article of belief.
How
does this idea of motion fit in
with The Hill? We interact with our hills every day. We can
simply
view them, confront and abandon them, ascend them, be on them, descend
them,
ignore and avoid them, or go around them.
In
practical terms. we awaken,
prepare ourselves for the a period of wakefulness, perform tasks,
take
sustenance, relax, and rest. The Hills, if broken down into
gentle rises
in the plane of existence, may be simplified into snippets of
time.
Nothing will seem gargantuan if we reduce The Hills in size. They
are
still Hills, but not as daunting as they may first appear. In
this way,
motions are themselves simplified. Our motions, too, can become
baby
steps instead of giant leaps. Consider a task facing you.
It may
appear insurmountable, requiring much effort. But if we take one
first
small step, then another, and another, we are in the process of
climbing The
Hill. We may not reach the top of The Hill when we intended, but
motion
is what propels and sustains us until the time we finish our task, or
reach our
destination on The Hill.
Is
our goal to reach the top of The
Hill at all? Or is our goal to simply climb to a certain
point?
That would depend on where on The Hill your goal is located.
In
all your motions, simply move in
relation to your Hill and when the time is right, you will know you
have
reached your goal.
The
Hill stands still, in a fixed
position. Most of us are in some kind of constant motion, or at
least
some part of us is. For instance, my arms and hands are creating
these
words, my eyes are checking what I write, my mind is formulating
these
words. Yet, I am sitting still.
We
can be our own hills.
Sometimes, it is best to be still and simply be in the present moment,
observing something as simple as our own breath.
It is
in stillness that we regain
our stability and sense of purpose. Purpose will be the subject
of
another post, so stay tuned. But for now, take a moment or two to
be
still, visualizing The Hill, visualizing yourself as a hill, unmovable,
unshakable, silent amid nature and amid all that has been created by
all
sentient beings.
When
we are still, we are strong.