Looking out my window
I stood looking out the window this morning. Fog rolling in and the sun peeking through – at the Monterrey pine and a small flock of birds silhouetted against sky. I had a sudden realization that the dark room behind me -- was behind me – gone, past, ago, history. That what matters is what is before me. And there was this realization that perhaps there is no “destination”. I think we all act as if there is some achievement, some way of being, some “cure for it all” that we are stumbling toward. What if there’s nothing to strive for, obtain, realize? Won’t we look silly in the end if we realize our assumptions are false? If what is before us at the end of it all is more fog, more sun, birds wheeling in the air… and all along we had all that. What if we have more freedom than we ever imagined? What if we didn’t need to please, to accomplish, to fit in, to attend meetings, to get degrees, to lose weight, to make our beds???
Of course, there is a sense that on one level, we do need to accomplish, to be kind, to accommodate, to suffer in small ways. But I think that may be our ego talking to us, and our soul has a much deeper, wider view – more like the one I see looking out my window than the one I see when I look back over by shoulder at the shadowed past and the piled up history of things I’ve done and not done.