Right now, at this point in my life, I’m having fun.
Should I feel guilty about that? Would I be more worthy if I focused (as many wonderful people I know do) on wars and famine and the-state-of-politics and all the other worrying aspects of our world?
I dare to say it: no.
My life – all six-and-a-fair-bit decades of it – has had it’s share of disasters, problems, heartbreaks and despair. I’m now – in hindsight (which is a much cosier place to view from) – thankful for all those difficult and testing times. They’ve etched lines on my face, turned my hair white and allowed me to understand myself and others far better than if I’d had a safe, comfortable time reading the papers and keeping the house tidy. (I do neither of those things.)
At this point, I have no major problems in my life and I have the most inordinate amount of fun. If you’re about to say, “Oh don’t say that, you’re tempting fate”, you are missing the point. In those terms, I don’t believe there is any such thing as ‘fate’ – or, for that matter – a vengeful deity of any kind, which must be appeased and bowed down to. I don’t believe that I have a preordained ‘lot’ that will come to me, whatever, or can only be avoided if I follow the rules, or store up good karma.
I believe that I create my life.
Now the devil’s advocate will be saying, “So if that’s the case, how come you created all those heartbreaks and disasters, huh?”
I don’t mean that I create the whole shebang consciously and meticulously (although I have come across a few people who are just about able to do that). However I am coming closer to a conscious awareness of the process.
Since I started to see myself as moving through a thixotropic aether (see my last post for details if you have no idea what I just said there) rather than a vacuum which happens to have a bit of air in this particular portion of it, I’ve altered my way of viewing life. It’s great! I’m loving it.
The way I considered it was this: Quicksand is thixotropic. The more you bash and flail and struggle, the more unyielding it becomes. If, though, you very softly and gently relax, flow with it and – causing as little resistance as possible – swim slowly and carefully towards the edge, you can gradually escape.
The thing is, if my whole life is a journey through this substance, just crawling out once won’t help that much. There isn’t, in this existence, a place of safety, where no perils or challenges can possibly occur; physical life just isn’t like that. I could argue that it’s one big sea of quicksand. Once I know how to deal with that, though, it stops being a problem. I can drift gently through it. I can get used to the way it pulls and sucks at me. I can stop seeing it as the enemy and just resolve to move lightly through it, not taking it too seriously, not resisting it. I can start to enjoy it’s texture and the whole adventure. It was my choice to be here, after all.
So I’m not living in some kind of fool’s paradise. I know just how it all works. I know the hazards and dangers, but that is not going to stop me enjoying myself.
Like I said, I’m having fun.