Sunday, April 13, 2014

The Mortal Imperative

   Something made clear to my awareness is the tendency to take life for granted.  It’s not something I think was intentional;  I just seem to be programmed to accept events that happen so often as normal.  Over time, this list of acceptance of normal grows to the point of expectation; there lies the rub of obtained comfort.
  For good or ill parents labor to make the way of their children ‘less difficult’ then their own journey. Rich or Poor that urging seems to exist with most parents I’ve talked to or watched raise their brood.
  I bring this up today mainly because tomorrow I go in for minor surgery on my shoulder.  True there is a risk whenever anesthesia is administered; I’ve known of several cases of minor surgery ending in death.  But the boon here for me dear reader is to share the blossoming insight into my own small-personal-point-of-view into the magical drives of living well.
  These past few weeks in preparation for the event, little instances popped up to remind me of all the many things I do using both arms, (something I will not be able to do after the surgery for some time).  How many of my daily routines included the smooth cooperation of all of my limbs?  Bashfully I’ll admit I don’t give a whole lot of conscious thought into all of the many with afflictions preventing them from doing even the most minor of activities; there it is, I’m self absorbed ~ just like every body else.
  I recognize we’re a contrast kind of creature, so having those bouts of illness should teach to treasure good health; most times it does, at least for a while.  Then soon enough the preoccupations cloud the gratitude and it’s a parade of dissatisfactions that hover near our lips.
  I’d like to say I’ve learned better, but I’m not that wise.  Now I know of better, but that’s not nearly the same thing.  After an accident, or a close call with the end of ‘self’ there is this glow of otherworldliness that lingers.  To look at the conditions so carefully laid out considering them without the author?  I’ve been prone to do just that without being morbid.  Instead of dwelling on the negative possibilities, rather to question what it is I value as so important?
  I’d like to spend more time with the people I love; even if its not in my command to make happen.  I’ve abandoned some of those things that annoyed me ~ I know they don’t matter all that much actually; not enough to rob me of seeking joy.  Of all of that and much more. I must admit I’ve noticed how preciously little time I actually have.  That doesn’t spur me to learn Russian along with Mandarin while mastering Beethoven’s 9th on the Harmonica.  No, nor cultivatating the best of any display of my specialness or concerns.  I’ve even reconciled that these notions and expressions I post on this board, along with gather years of essays, poems and short stories and songs are merely an echo of my not so well articulated voice saying simply, “I was here, and I learned to love.”
 That’s all, but it’s taken me a life time to become so clear on it. I suppose the advice of not taking anything external personal was actually helpful.
I felt compel to put it in our modern-electronic stone so perhaps I’d have something to remind me while I heal.
And you know…..I have this funny idea that what any of us are really about is healing; healing from the delusion that we’re here forever or worst of lies, we have to earn worthiness.  It’s a painful process to be sure, without having concrete examples of what else could this all mean?  But then, getting over terror sometimes is a process much like learning to taking things for granted?  Letting go of any sense of entitlement is where the threshold of gratitude offers the gift to savoring the moment.  You know, to let go without a lot of fuss


I dunno, I’ll let you know what I find over the next horizon if I get the chance. 

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