An idle spirit is the sign of a dying heart. The longer you walk through life and the more you wear around the edges, the more comfortable you seem to get. Like an old pair of shoes.
I used to rush and hurry to things and places, thinking that was where I needed to be, only to find that a mirage was my destination. What I thought would be there never was and I came to understand that what I was really chasing were expectations. Expectations placed on people, places and things are just future disappointments in progress.
Then it just dawned on me one day; I know where I am going. Without a doubt. It is the same place all of us end up at eventually. It is a grave journey to a grave destination. With that in mind, I slowed down. Not to the point of complacency but rather to one of awakening.
As I slowed down, the blur of the world came into focus and I began to see and hear and feel and smell things I had never experienced before. Instead of quickly gulping down bittersweet shots at the bar of illusion and running in a drunken haze to life’s next tavern, I pulled up a chair and sat down a spell. The dust of my calamities began to settle and I sobered a bit as the noises of chaos continued past me and went out of hearing.
I began to hear a faint voice talking to me, an ancient voice I had not heard since childhood. I recognized it immediately and reveled in its return. Weak and weary it began, as it spoke to me through my heart. It had been kept a prisoner in solitude, held captive by the dreams of others. Its cries of anguish had been silenced by the clambering screams of others and their self-centered wishes for me. But now I heard it. It grew louder and stronger with each breath it took until it was ringing in the ears of my soul. I clung on every word it spoke and when at last it had finished its oration, I helped it to its rightful throne. The healing scars around wrists and ankles serve as a constant reminder of the treachery of others. I abdicated any authority I thought I might have and dedicated my allegiance to the sovereignty of my Spirit.
It is all right to visit the follies of the past and use them for lessons against the present or the future. But it is foolish to dig up their rotting carcasses and try to coax them into changing history. They will only torment you and laugh at your misery. What is done is done and we are best to leave the dead alone. Pray they were barren and have no offspring.
Living in the mist of the future is equally as fatal to the present, I think. All things ethereal float about in a mystical flux that make precise predictions a ruse. The one constant is that everything changes and it changes constantly. It is proper to have a general idea of where you are headed, but you can rest assured it will not be the same target when you get there as it was when you began your quest for it.
Some will argue this point with me and that is fine as well. I believe that there is an order to things in the universe, but it is an order of perfect imperfection. Some will call that chaos but I don’t. Trees have apples, but not all trees do. Perfect imperfection. Apple trees have apples, but no two produce fruits exactly the same in crop size, fruit size or shape of individual fruits. Perfect imperfection. No two individuals are exactly the same. Their collective make-up may overlap here and there, but they are each unique to their own composition. Perfect imperfection. No two individuals view the world around them the same or house the same level of needs as those around them. Some people are just as happy in solitude as in a room full of others. Perfect imperfection. It is the order of the day; for me anyway and I accept it for what it is. The fact that everything constantly changes is another prime example of this perfect imperfection. It is the mysterious liquid of the universe seeking it’s own level.
Listen to your Spirit. It will get you where you need to be as opposed to where you want to be in most cases. Wherever life leads you on your trip to the grave, it will be fine as long as you are true to your Spirit and follow your heart. Take time to enjoy the trip though. Not every day is filled with excitement or grief. Some days are just fillers for us, most likely because of some perfect imperfection occurring elsewhere in the universe. Some days you just have to say, “This is as good as it gets…. for today, but there is always tomorrow…. maybe.”
“Activity is intoxicating and easily mistaken for achievement.”
Sometimes doing nothing is what we are supposed to be doing.
Copyright © 2007 Mike Lawson