January 21, 2004
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My Xanga mentor has nudged me to further writing. The well is pretty dry right now. Dust balls are starting to accumulate in the corners. Let’s take a look inside, maybe just as far as the foyer:
I am just sort of going through the motions lately. At home, I have probably two dozen projects of various sizes and stages of completion. I jump from one to the other as the urgency shifts – can’t seem to complete any of them. At work, the daily routine has turned to tedium with an underlying tension derived from the possibility of job loss due to business issues. There is the ever present personnel tension with a couple of people. These things along with health issues, teenage children issues, elder parent issues, college tuition issues, etc. cause me to approach each day with an unfortunate dry, shriveled up resolve. Most people, at least in their public persona, would be aghast at such a perspective of daily life. I’m not so sure that this mode is not prevalent over those who awake every morning with exuberance, self imposed or, especially, genuine.
I truly look forward to finishing the day with a couple hours of mind numbing TV. I haven’t succumbed to the reality shows ( I surprise myself in actually finding this genre degrading and humiliating, reaching new heights in lows for humanity) but would be the first to admit that the shows that do consume my time are of only slightly more value. I am reading a good book now, Theodore Rex, an account of Teddy’ presidency, however, the reading sessions come in short spurts as I find the energy to keep my eyes open.
So, how does one squeeze more out of life? I’m not going to follow up this question with a blurt of wisdom that espouses the answer. I am 50 years old and have just begun realizing that I probably want to figure the answer to this one. Is the concept that there is more to life than maintaining life an illusion created by our modern anglo-culture, which lives a relatively trouble free life compared to the lives of most of previous humanity? “Trouble” in this case referring to things like how do I kill the bear for food before it does the same to me? If the answer is yes, does one have to look inward to find the greater, hidden true value of life? Being a product of the -60s and 70s, I am well aware of the concept of going to the mountain to find one’s inner self. I was always skeptical of any real value here because I saw that most people’s journey to the mountain involved very little walking steep, rocky paths and a great deal of smoking large quantities of pot. I am pretty sure that all of the great religions espouse the value of looking inward when looking for the meaning or value of life; finding the value in interacting with and relieving the sufferings of the rest of humanity. Is this the only true path to fulfillment? Can one maintain enthusiasm and sense of purpose through pride of accomplishment or material wealth? I know the pat answer to these questions. If polled, the vast majority of those browsing through BestBuy or the BMW show room would be able to proclaim the shallowness of material wealth. Yet, here we are. Until recently the true significance of finding a higher purpose rang pretty hollow, not able to push its way through the cynicism that has been cultivated over the years like the ivy engulfs an old brick home. My basic nature allowed me to believe the truth in helping one’s neighbor but, was the act of doing so, so directly connected to me looking forward to waking in the morning more than shutting down at night?
Well, these are some of the thoughts that jumble my brain and, as I said, you’ve only entered the foyer and peeked down the hallway. When I have a moment of clarity, I will try to write something a little lighter… maybe a short, short story.
Comments (4)
If this merely the foyer, my friend, have we a tour in front of us (squaring shoulders and trying to look as intelligent as possible in the face of this mountain of erudite philosophical thought)!
Speaking of mountains: perhaps it a metaphorical mountain (e.g., of weed)? I remember sitting on an equatorial mountain in Central Africa reading whats-his-name, you know, the philosophical peyote-user; gads, he’s a cultural icon. Anyway. That man. And feeling I’d reached the moutain, and it was me. But I was still only in the foothills. Or perhaps just the foyer.
As I have had occasion to remark to one of your colleagues today (perhaps one of the personal-tension ones, for all I know): as long as you DO find time to sit down in front of the tv with a beer, all hope isn’t lost. You’re still taking care of you. Which, I am pretty damn sure, is the very first step on the road to enlightment. Whatever steps constitute the rest of the path.
(P.S. You know, in closing my comments elsewhere, I throw [[hugs]] and
s all over Xanga all the time, but somehow, despite equal or greater inclination, I feel awkward doing that to the guy whose permission I have to ask for the use of his conference room, while we look at each other without a spark of recognition outside the usual. Sigh. Mountains abound. Hang in there!)
Aha. Castenada. THAT was the name of the guy whose peyote vision quest I read about, seated outside my mud hut on the equator and hearing the passing villagers mutter in Swahili about their weird m’zungu. Yeah. Senior moment, there!
I am looking forward to seeing the rest of the rooms in the house
Questions like these haunt me too. I found that some of the principles of Buddhism helped me in my day to day life–things like non-attachment and trying to be present in the moment instead of allowing the mind to constantly zip back and forth between regret and worry. Really appreciating simple pleasures. Probably meditation would help too, but I don’t know; I’m a lousy meditator.
And I’m 100% sure that regular journaling at Xanga helps clarify one’s own thoughts, so keep writing!