Things We Do

Just when you think you've got yourself in a nice comfy groove, along comes some cosmic force that heaves a mighty stomp and shakes your ground, dislodging a wheel or two, leaving you mired in mud until the spring thaw passes, or until a helpful bystander gives you a push that lands you back on your former track, or into an entirely new one. You can reorient yourself to the path in either case, as long as it has you are moving ever forward and not looping back around in a circle.

Things happen - death, separation, pain, change. Also, birth, rebirth, evolution, reunion, joy.

Things are given and then taken away. For example, a fancy camera: it's here at your disposal, and then it's gone. This could happen three times over with three different fancy cameras - here and gone. (The camera being a mode of delivery for your vision of the world, snapping photos an outlet for creative expression.) But perhaps you have a not-so-fancy camera at your disposal? Not your ideal, but a camera nonetheless, and here now is an opportunity to learn to work with what you have, and to do your best to excel in spite of (or because of) limitations. Potentially a good thing, an opportunity to become creative in ways you might not have otherwise considered.

But this is not just about a camera.

Coasting and upheaval. You come to realize that this is the point, this is the norm. Sometimes the upheaval comes from so many directions at once that it feels downright overwhelming, so you turn to friends, advisors, books, religion, philosophy, art, music, and science for guidance. Anywhere and everywhere. You turn within.

I recently bought a book called "When Things Fall Apart" by Pema Chodron, and this excerpt here has (so far) been most significant for me:

"The very first noble truth of the Buddha points out that suffering is inevitable for human beings as long as we believe that things last - that they don't disintegrate, that they can be counted on to satisfy our hunger for security. From this point of view, the only time we ever know what's really going on is when the rug's been pulled out and we can't find anywhere to land. We use these situations either to wake ourselves up or to put ourselves to sleep. Right now - in the very instant of groundlessness - is the seed of taking care of those who need our care and of discovering our goodness."