The Exercise is something that has been part of my life for over a year now. It has been one of the most basic tools of change in my life,
The Exercise
When was the last time you did something that left you feeling as if you were hanging on to thin air, that left your heart racing and your soul filled with the joy that is life?
Have you ever turned your back on all that you "should" do to follow your dream?
No matter where you are, with the coming dawn, this world changes in it's ageless cycle, bringing changes to all we see, to the new life that comes with the return of the sun, to the cycle of decline and death. Here, for me, it's longest night, and in a way I stand my own vigil, this time to ponder and choose.
We choose our turning points. Life does not thrust them upon us. How many times do we see people who fail to take the opportunity when it's given while others take them? We choose to act, or to hide.
A few years ago, while I was for all intents living in seclusion, I had a high school boy that would help me on the farm once a week. One day as we were driving to get some supplies I asked him if he'd seen the deer in the field we'd just passed. He was the passenger, so in a way I'd almost expected him to be looking at the world around him, but he'd missed them. From then on I made a game of it, asking him each time we went somewhere, what he'd seen.
So much of life and the world passes by us unnoticed.
For me, it took working on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier to open the eyes I'd had blinders on for so long. I can't help but wonder about all the things I missed before then
In a way, it was the first step on this journey.
...for once my eyes had seen, my heart could do naught but follow...
If I tell you I see, will you tell me what I missed?
I'm sure you've felt it. That sense of a great weight being lifted, the relief flooding through you, almost... well, yes, even enough to make you want to dance with the sheer, simple joy.
It's odd in a way that I didn't feel it. That growing heaviness... but... I did. But I called it different things to hide the reality, to mask what I chose not to see. We're masters at that, you know, masters at avoiding, at misinterpreting, shading in tones of gray, lying. Most of the time we don't even notice, it's just part of how we deal with a life we wish was different. So, we make it different in our minds, then choose to believe it. It's only when the wave of self inflicted oppression has lifted that we see the true extent of the petty, inconsequential, self-serving prater that we concocted to justify what we've born.
I could give you a thousand excuses... and ten thousand promises... or a hundred thousand lies...
It's not your fault I choose to believe the lies, not anyone's problem that I fail to see my own, it's not destiny, not it the sense that it's "meant" to be, it's choice, even when, most often, it's not a conscious one.
I find a curious peace now, a sense of freedom that I haven't felt is so long.
I wonder if you know the role you played, if you could point out the lies and deceptions?
I wonder if you could see yourself as I see you now.
I hope you find freedom...
the funny thing is: I hope you understand, I just don't expect you to.
The dream, the ideal... they can drive us toward goals that take us beyond our own limits. But they can be prisons too. They can lock us into habits of thought and action that become empty of meaning and hope. They can blind us to the reality of life and the world, leaving us less then human in the end. We can spend our whole lives on a quest for a perfection that will never be achieved, by us or others, and wonder at the end, "what did I do wrong..."
When it's the unreal we seek, we will always fall short. When it's fantasy that inflames us, the world will always leave us cold. When legend becomes our goal, only the past lives in our hearts. When we have turned our back on a thousand imperfections, we may well find ourselves left behind, for the same reason.
Can you wake to the baby's cry, bone tired and weary, and give her the love and comfort she needs? Can you listen, again, to the heartache of a friend, and be the one who helps them heal? Can sit in the still, dark night and find peace within your own soul? Can you accept the real and walk among the living?
Lifetime
