It's so easy to fall into the trap of focusing on what I don't have, how life has been unfair, resentment of others who have ' 'done me wrong". What a ridiculous way to live. What a tragic way to spend the brief instance of time we have.
What don't I have?
I don't have financial security. I don't have my dream job. I also don't have a debilitating physical handicap. I don't have Gullame Barre (any more). I don't have a Stage 4 Glioblastoma brain tumor.
Life is not "fair," and it's unrealistic to see it as otherwise. Life is inherently chaos, as is all of nature. We survive until we don't. We thrive in ideal conditions that nurture and enrich us and adapt to adversity and obstacles we encounter.
The only person that has ever done me wrong is me. I own my choices outright and the ramifications that come with them, including the instances when I defer to the judgment and decisions of others instead of my instinctual opposition. In some cases, I grow; in others, I constrain, and in all instances, I learn. Assuming I am open to doing so. My "path" is my creation.
Something tragic may happen tomorrow. Something genuinely significant and life-changing. Someone I love dearly may die suddenly and unexpectedly, for example. A house fire could leave us homeless. A beloved pet could get loose and be struck by a car.
In truth, trauma and loss is a certainty. It's inevitable and on the horizon for all of us. And I want to live with daily acceptance of this, as should we all, but not in a weighty negative manner that causes every day to seem clouded with doom. Instead, to see and embrace our own and collective impermanence with loving acceptance.
I've spent 62 years here. I have been living what I call "the construct" of dictated cultural and social expectations and mandates. I've pursued recognition and validation through the acceptance of others and material posturing. But I've also sought insight and connection sporadically throughout my varied experiences, while the past several years have gradually and increasingly been spent becoming far more connected to the moment and to the recognition that it's all passing until it ceases.
I enter this 62nd year far more conscious that the only barrier between my desires and their fulfillment is my belief in myself and overcoming confidence-limiting inaction.
I can't wait to see what the future brings. I plan to be there for as much of it as possible, influencing it in ways that make each moment a richly rewarding experience.
Life is not "fair," and it's unrealistic to see it as otherwise. Life is inherently chaos, as is all of nature. We survive until we don't. We thrive in ideal conditions that nurture and enrich us and adapt to adversity and obstacles we encounter.
The only person that has ever done me wrong is me. I own my choices outright and the ramifications that come with them, including the instances when I defer to the judgment and decisions of others instead of my instinctual opposition. In some cases, I grow; in others, I constrain, and in all instances, I learn. Assuming I am open to doing so. My "path" is my creation.
Something tragic may happen tomorrow. Something genuinely significant and life-changing. Someone I love dearly may die suddenly and unexpectedly, for example. A house fire could leave us homeless. A beloved pet could get loose and be struck by a car.
In truth, trauma and loss is a certainty. It's inevitable and on the horizon for all of us. And I want to live with daily acceptance of this, as should we all, but not in a weighty negative manner that causes every day to seem clouded with doom. Instead, to see and embrace our own and collective impermanence with loving acceptance.
I've spent 62 years here. I have been living what I call "the construct" of dictated cultural and social expectations and mandates. I've pursued recognition and validation through the acceptance of others and material posturing. But I've also sought insight and connection sporadically throughout my varied experiences, while the past several years have gradually and increasingly been spent becoming far more connected to the moment and to the recognition that it's all passing until it ceases.
I enter this 62nd year far more conscious that the only barrier between my desires and their fulfillment is my belief in myself and overcoming confidence-limiting inaction.
I can't wait to see what the future brings. I plan to be there for as much of it as possible, influencing it in ways that make each moment a richly rewarding experience.