A Journey Without a Destination
A recent conversation with a friend led me to take another look at spirituality. I hadn't ever tried to get my thoughts and feelings on paper in a way that I felt wouldn't be judged and be authentic. At best, I was content to possibly have a degree spirituality without knowing it. Actually, that's an interesting place to be. To be something without seeking to define it and possess it.
More so however, talk of spirituality made me cranky and argumentative. I denied any such thing as spirituality or any benefit coming from it. I'm not so quick to dismiss the existence of spirituality at least in this present moment. I still believe spirituality has little value in solving concrete problems, but I'm beginning to realize life is not made all of concrete.
With all the talk of a higher power I took up the challenge of expressing my thoughts on the subject. My higher power (arghhh). OK, let's call it when I am at my best and have a good connection to myself and others. The love I feel for myself that spreads outward to the world. The love that cares not if it is loved in return. These things are all inter-related and come and go like the wind. The temporary beauty and my sometimes small role in contributing to it can be intoxicating when I am close to that state.
Inevitably, the richness and texture of my imperfections reassert themselves in the form of the familiar and the new. The true nature of reality - suffering endures. I am left at best waiting quietly, patiently trying not to force the next wonderfully creative beautiful moment. Whether that wondrous moment comes creatively out of myself, the sheer beauty of something in nature, or in someone that I missed because I was driving too fast or was being dismissive. Most times I come nowhere close to not trying to force life into the beauty I want it to have.
Sometimes, I get lazy and instead of thinking of the proper word or phrase to describe a discreet moment or behavior I stay stuck in the familiar worn out phrases and places. When I am using novel ways to describe and experience the world it is new and fresh, be it happy or sad. Conversely, when I am always explaining and interpreting I can miss the raw beauty or sadness of things. Yes, I use words a lot to create novelty. For others, it can be pottery or many other things that calls into being that what was never quite there before in the same way.
Somehow I can't get my arms around what I am describing as being a higher power, except perhaps in the most roundabout way. Perhaps that is humility, although I suspect at least in my case when I talk of humility there is some self delusion going on.
Zach go learn pottery or do something already, your living too much from your head...
More so however, talk of spirituality made me cranky and argumentative. I denied any such thing as spirituality or any benefit coming from it. I'm not so quick to dismiss the existence of spirituality at least in this present moment. I still believe spirituality has little value in solving concrete problems, but I'm beginning to realize life is not made all of concrete.
With all the talk of a higher power I took up the challenge of expressing my thoughts on the subject. My higher power (arghhh). OK, let's call it when I am at my best and have a good connection to myself and others. The love I feel for myself that spreads outward to the world. The love that cares not if it is loved in return. These things are all inter-related and come and go like the wind. The temporary beauty and my sometimes small role in contributing to it can be intoxicating when I am close to that state.
Inevitably, the richness and texture of my imperfections reassert themselves in the form of the familiar and the new. The true nature of reality - suffering endures. I am left at best waiting quietly, patiently trying not to force the next wonderfully creative beautiful moment. Whether that wondrous moment comes creatively out of myself, the sheer beauty of something in nature, or in someone that I missed because I was driving too fast or was being dismissive. Most times I come nowhere close to not trying to force life into the beauty I want it to have.
Sometimes, I get lazy and instead of thinking of the proper word or phrase to describe a discreet moment or behavior I stay stuck in the familiar worn out phrases and places. When I am using novel ways to describe and experience the world it is new and fresh, be it happy or sad. Conversely, when I am always explaining and interpreting I can miss the raw beauty or sadness of things. Yes, I use words a lot to create novelty. For others, it can be pottery or many other things that calls into being that what was never quite there before in the same way.
Somehow I can't get my arms around what I am describing as being a higher power, except perhaps in the most roundabout way. Perhaps that is humility, although I suspect at least in my case when I talk of humility there is some self delusion going on.
Zach go learn pottery or do something already, your living too much from your head...
Replies
Sometimes when I come home from work, I step out of my truck and walk head down to my backdoor. I miss all the beauty in that walk from the truck to the door. The herons still and silent in the field, the geese passing overhead, the sun setting behind the peak or the way the trees are silhouetted against a darkening sky and so much more. Thanks for reminding me to lift my head. I really enjoy all your writing. Your poems are wonderful. Thank you for sharing them.