Woke early this morning with willie (who is a sad little sack fighting a kitty cold and who wants to be within 1 inch of me at all times lately) nestled around my shoulders and oscar asking, not so politely, to be let outside for his morning exploration around the neighborhood. Put on a pot of coffee and lit a fire in the fireplace to take off the chill, and then just sat in front of it, staring at the dancing flames, my mind in a rare state of emptiness, all around me quiet except for the occasional crackle of birch bark meeting fire.
I have not written anything in a long while, a combination of being extremely busy both in measure of time and of thought. I don’t mind it much that life has been hectic—the constant forward motion is good for me. What’s been difficult is the fullness of my head and my inability lately to empty it out. This never bodes well for me...my kind of crazy physical energy needs the balance of a calm mind. I disappeared briefly a few weekends ago, packed up my camping gear and spent some time in spaces empty of people. It helped. I was able to unload some of the weight in my head and heart. Some of it still sits in me, but I am trying to just let it be and focus on what is present and in front of me. If I spend too much time reviewing past missteps or trying to avoid future ones I trip over everything and miss what’s in the here and now.
Proust wrote “the only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” I’ve thought about that a lot lately and am trying to view my current world with a different—and hopefully healthier—perspective. Trying to understand and accept that there are those times when what we would change we simply cannot change. When reason fails and problems cannot be solved.
Maybe grace comes from recognizing and acknowledging those moments.
I want so much to live in a state of grace.
What I know for certain, of course, is that our human experience, all of it, is seasoned with accomplishment, failure, love and loss. Life is not solid, at all, life is water, flowing inside and around objects, people, moments in time and space, sometimes sitting still and placid, sometimes rushing whitecapped and fierce, but often something in between. And like water, life really can’t be grasped, we can’t hold it tightly in our hands.
It is when I fail to recognize this that I become stagnant and my life becomes motionless.
And when I remember it, when I become aware of it...when I let go and just allow myself to flow like water...those are the moments when I am most alive.