Rain is Rain

I watched him walking in the rain. His back hunched over, his hair dripping. "Where will he sleep tonight?", I thought. Then I went back to the rain and thought, "It doesn't care." When the rain falls...it falls. It does not pay mind to such things as whether or not one may have shelter from it. It simply falls. I normally would have loved that rain...but, after watching the way it poured down mercilessly on that old man's head, I wondered if I should.

Then, my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of my son's feet sloshing through the puddles on the ground beneath them. I looked down at him. His face was beaming, his arms stretched out wide, his palms open. He welcomed the rain like one would a long lost friend. He danced, he splashed--he reveled in every single drop that touched him.

The rain that gushed down upon the old man's head was the very same rain that fell upon my son's. Resent it or adore it? I was torn. I decided that neither was appropriate. Rain is rain. Life is life.

I Can't Live Without "ME"

All that really matters is perception. How much understanding you have, how much awareness. How accurate your perceptions are in relation to what really is. That is what matters. I have lived my life with an obsession for validation. I have always depended on others to tell me that I am smart, to tell me that I am beautiful, to tell me that I am a good person. Things I so desire to be. But, even if they tell me these things does that make it so? Is it real? Do these things even matter? It is so limiting. Aren't there much greater things to be? I find myself in a constant state of flux, going back and forth, peace – conflict – peace - conflict --- all of it depending on what feedback I am getting from others around me. But, how can one maintain this way? It is lunacy….madness. There is no external validation that exists that will provide for me the steady peace I seek. Where is the immovable center? To be alone, completely and utterly alone and be content – content with life in a silent room of solitude….until I can get there, I have not truly lived, I have not come to understand anything. When I can get there, then that is when I will be able to give – give entirely. Until I get there, then, all my interactions with people are merely variations of bartering. I give, only to take – to trade. When I can give and be content to never receive in return….that is when, I think, I can say I am a healthy, whole person. That is when I can truly help someone else, when I have understood real compassion.

What kind of friends are we? What kind of spouses are we? What kind of parents are we, if we are constantly seeking to take pieces of our friends, our spouses, our children away to add to our sense of worth? It is painful, deeply hurtful, to think about these things…but necessary. I wrote of the inescapability of selfishness before and on my doubt that any act is done for a purpose apart from self-preservation. Is it really inescapable – is there a way to TRANSCEND the self? Just because I haven’t seen it or experienced it yet…does that mean that it cannot …or that it has not been done?

I think it was Mother Theresa who once said (this is paraphrased), you give until it hurts, and then you continue to give until it stops hurting. I think most of us do the first part, we give until it hurts…but then we stop. We get scared. We are afraid to continue giving because we are afraid of losing ourselves entirely. If we lose ourselves, then, what remains? But, maybe…just maybe…we will find that if we lose what we see as our self…we will find something even better than that self…wholeness, liberation, understanding. I HAVE NO IDEA about any of it! I think it will take me a lifetime to grasp, if that. I hope that I am blessed with enough days on Earth to seek it out…to at least get close. I hope the same for you.

Coconuts!

It hit me like a million coconuts last night. I had no idea what the heck I was doing when I started this endeavor. As I review the story I put down, I realize it is not quite the story I had hoped for. Far from it, in fact. I didn't want to see it as I was writing, but there is no escaping it now. I let the story get away from me. I rushed the process and I skipped corners (somewhat unconsciously) to get something "done" by my 30th birthday. Now, though, I am faced with a question. Will I be satisfied by just having "something" done by the deadline I had originally set even if it is not a "30-worthy something?" I think the answer, for me, is no. Certainly not.

And sooo...the announcement. I have changed my deadline -- a six month extension. Now, the goal for me is to get the story I REALLY want...in the format of my choosing..down on paper by the end of July 2011. It is a little disappointing to me. But, this is life. Life NEVER goes as planned and if it did....would it be any fun? Would we ever grow, would we ever learn? So, yes. It is a little disappointing, but at the same time...I am learning soooo much. Not just about what it takes to write a real story either. I am learning about me -- my strengths, my limitations, my fears, my dreams, my values.

I want to learn more, though. I am not the world. I want to learn about the world and the people in it. To take the time to be an astute observer and appreciate the various operating systems at work. There is so much to learn...isn't that fantastic? I hope I never get to the point where I can say I have learned it all for that would only mean that I gave up. I do not want to give up.