A Corollary, or…We’re All Related on the Inside

A Corollary to My Last Post

There is a step past dealing with the shock of getting (even somewhat, even just a glimpse, a peeking around a corner) what you want, past overcoming the paralysis of potential when one looks around and notices there is much in the world wasn’t asked for that is supremely good.  Years of a mind-set of wanting what was around the corner prevented me from realizing the great riches not of my own creation that make up my world, my surroundings.  I am stupid lucky, a blessed human among blessed humans, living a first world life-style that allows for an unawareness of those that sit outside of whatever bubble I call home.

It doesn’t take much to gain an awareness of others.  Just putting one’s head up and paying attention is a great start, but I’m not talking about others here, just now.  I’m talking about being brave enough to  ask oneself the hard questions:  What don’t I know about myself?  What role am I playing in the miasma of  life swirling around me?  What have I not seen that has been underfoot the whole time?  Who have I misjudged and lost out on knowing better?  When do I misjudge myself and hold back?  Or burden myself with low expectations, only to become my own jailer, having learned the terms and conditions of my entrapment?

To an extent I can’t describe, we exist in a mystery of part world of our own making and part board game that we were dropped into, defenseless and clueless with the exception of the amazing biology we carry around.  Our bodies serve us through lots of fun abuse, take us on adventures, house our minds and souls without complaint (that I can hear), provide the tools to observe, appreciate, participate in, experience this world through our five senses and the million unseen antennae that we use to discern our now. 

Sometimes the body lies to the inside parts, or the mind tricks the body, or the soul over-rides them both, always for good.  Or any variety of chess moves with these three components.  We are miraculous machines of love, mobility devices for fragments of a compassionate God, wandering nomads in space hoping the answer to the “Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe and Everything” is more explanatory and helpful than “42,” but thank you for that Douglas Adams.

So, this morning (it’s already noon, so how’s that working for me!?), I plan to:

Look around and use fresh, grateful eyes to see the beauty around me

Allow myself to feel spoiled and lucky and deserving, at least for today

Lie in wait, hoping to receive the loving ministrations of my world as it reflects back to me its goodness

Turn my face towards warmth, looking with the fresh, hopeful eyes of a child, for the long moments that can be mustered

Understand that the challenges I sought are here, are not a burden but an opportunity that I envisaged, and that my art will contain the seeds and flowers of this struggle, both in words and images.

I want to tell you all that I am a grateful human peeling away the layers between myself and the joy that surrounds us, that was meant to be ours before thinking got in the way.  I know you are a seeker, too.  We’re in this together and my hand reaches out to you.