Wednesday, April 8, 2015

unknown

Commuting to work this morning, surrounded by other cars and drivers intent on destinations to I know not where, I began to contemplate the unknown and unknowable nature of life.  Our big human brains spend a great deal of time and energy buffering against the present and imagining some measure of control.  We indulge elaborate contortions of self aggrandizement in an attempt to prop up our sense of the known.  We worry about the future, plan for it and rush headlong toward it.  We carry a satchel of memories and stories and nonsense, heavy laden, on bent backs weary from use.

The one moment we seem intent on ignoring is this one.  Why?  Could it be that this moment is inviting us, exactly as it is, to a robust kind of vulnerability?  A not knowing?  I have begun to believe that the greatest growth opportunity is found in a thorough examination of our relationship with the unknown.

I have five dear friends presently wrestling with cancer.  I witness their courage and endurance as they face the uncertainty of life, an uncertainty in which we are all steeped, but feel entitled to ignore.  What kind of blinders must we wear to avoid the simple, stark and glaringly obvious truth that this moment, exactly as it is, is the only moment there will ever be.  Imagine the weightlessness of this depth encounter, when all of our resistances are laid down and we come, with empty hands, naked and unabashed, to this one, perfect-as-it-is NOW.  This life. This moment. This breath. Anything less is a human parody masquerading as truth with all the pomp and puffed up circumstance that our busy minds can muster.

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