There are times in the early morning, when the house is silent, that I think time is almost paused. A simple moment of unadulterated existence with the rising sun and a simple breeze. I am struggling to understand why I don't get to feel this more often. Why do I have to wait for labor-day weekend? Although, at the precise moment I typed those words, my sense of gratitude for the little things reminded me that 7 years ago, Labor Day at the Steinmart Shoe Department would have been one hell of a busy work day. Or, that 3 years ago, I would have not even noticed a day off at all while I walked to the chow hall in Iraq.
I do have a choice every day though. It is either to stay on the treadmill of modern life, or get the F- off by simplifying things to the bare basics. Family, a few friends, the pursuit of a full and rich life- that is the focus. Unfortunately, we get so caught up in our societal conditioning that we pack our lives full of action that we forget how to simply "BE".
Life runs us after a while, and it runs us into the ground.
Just the other day, my nine year old daughter Emma had a gloomy expression on her face. When I asked her why, she explained that her best friend told her she would only be able to play on the weekends during the school year because of her busy schedule. Between dance lessons, ballet, music lessons, swim class, and horseback riding, their friendship would have to be on hold from Monday to Friday. This saddened me. Her friend is an amazing little girl, but I see her being carved into that sad American mirage of success. Maybe I'm just not wealthy, and I don't understand that truly successful people need all this formation to reach their dreams in their mid-thirties, but I think it is a Pyrrhic victory. Aren't the late thirties and early forties of most upper middle-class Americans the time of mid-life crisis and when most people find a regular therapist? Maybe if they spent a little more time "living" than pursuing their goals they would find that the act of truly living life "awake" has rewards that far exceed any "fast-track" gain.
All this is temporary.
I almost quoted the Bible, but I decided paraphrasing it in the colloquial might have more punch: The guy who owns the world at the expense of trading in his soul is one stupid motherf-er. I was going to add in the adjective "sad", but when you buddy-f yourself, than there is an automatic exemption of sympathy for people who stick it to themselves because they choose to.
He's stupid because he bought something worthless by trading the only priceless thing he had. It would be like selling your living body forever into slavery in exchange for a portrait of yourself as the king of the world. Stupid. He is a motherf-er by defaming his life's purpose- why should his mother suffered her pain at childbirth if he is to trade his life away in casual indifference for insignificant and transient gain?
We all grow old, we all retire. Every one of us is replaceable. Even folks who seem to possess eternal fame like Alexander the Great,Queen Elizabeth I, George Washington, etc.- they are but the personalization of myths and archetypes of generations, figureheads for the yearning of countless individuals who have struggled towards inaccessible satisfaction. Despite the achievements, their hands shook when they died, and two days after death their bodies had a terrible smell. When you consider the millions of people who have lived and whose names are forgotten, our egg-shell lives become very precious to us. Making a good, rich life is all that should matter to us. We should exist for the pure sake of living a beautiful life and passing that legacy to our children.
On a personal note, this entire conversation with Emma took place in a fantastic fort that Emma created with sheets, safety pins and every article of furniture in her room. From the doorway, it looks like a bomb went off, but if you get down and crawl through the secret doorway, she made a house within a house, creating a posh Persian princess two room suite. I might not have Emma running on the American Success treadmill, but if she comes up with such magnificent creativity, I think we are on the right track.
In the end, my life is what I make of it. True, I live in this house of cards society, and since I have a family, we must affect a compromise with the gods of society to survive. However, I can choose to throw a football with my son after school rather than immerse myself in the television. I can jump off the tree on the rope swing with Emma rather than immerse myself in Facebook. Ultimately, I have a time account that is topped off every night with 24 fresh hours, only 8 to 10 of which are dedicated to working. In regard to the others, they are my own.
If you want a unique view of this, read "How to Live on 24 hours a Day". Great little book. Here is the wiki link:
How to Live on 24 Hours a Day
As Paul Harvey said, Good Day!
