Library blues

At the local library, just after 11am, and the winter weather is hitting us with a bang. Rain falls softly on the roof, the bleak grey light coming through the window reminds me of London winters...

My fellow library users - mostly sitting absorbed on laptops - are scattered around on the various seats and cushions. Two standouts catch my eye. An idols hopeful, Mr Beanie (he's wearing a beanie) is whisper singing and air drumming, and I smile to see another human so oblivious to his surroundings. Mr Green Bag (named for obvious reasons) has sprawled himself atop cushions and lays head tilted back sporting a contented snore.

The cash register splutters and beeps, and the cash drawer springs open before clacking loudly as it reaches the limits. The antique sounding phone rings across the shelves of books - and the library staff answer and converse loudly with the caller. 

"Ha ha ha", says the library man, "its a great day for ducks, isn't it?" speaking to the caller. "We could reserve them for you online, save you the trip".

In the sheer mundane nature of the library I find myself. Looking and observing, listening and thinking. Wondering how the people that also visit the library today find themselves here, feeling amazed at the unique day that I experience right now. Within the weaved threads of my existence, I think to my self - am I unique? Am I any different to Mr Green Bag and Mr Beanie, obviously oblivious to the world.

Faculty

Sitting at the Coles Supermarket sushi station, swallowing slices of salmon and tuna. An entirely domestic day, focusing on what I don't have instead of what I do have. Feeling despondent about my current situation, not enjoying the gap between where I am and where I want to be. 

A man sits down next to me, along with his friend. Like me, he has his lunch of sushi, and I give him a perfunctory nod across the table. He doesn't respond. His friend places a bowl of soy sauce to his right, passes him a napkin, and then takes his hand to the soy sauce. The man smiles graciously, and then prepares to eat his sushi - by feeling for it with his hands. 

Yep, the man in front of me is blind. 

This man faces a daily challenge that makes my petty concerns seem small. With my faculties, I have immeasurable richness. I walk away, with a new appreciation of what I have instead of what I don't have.

Collective intelligence

Jim Rohn recommends to borrow wise words from those you admire... Referring to a particularly powerful quote, I recall him saying: 'You could stay up all night and not think of that'.

So I saw this powerful collection of words by a writer that I admire, and share I must...
           

Hero's Forest  |  by Brian Johnson

"You enter the forest at the darkest point, where there is no path. Where there is a way or a path, it is someone else's path. You are not on your own path. If you follow someone else's way, you are not going to realize your potential." ~ Joseph Campbell from A Joseph Campbell Companion

That pretty much sums it up.

Are you following someone else's path? If so, you simply aren't going to realize your potential.

Yes, we know that society does anything but encourage us to discover who we are and how to go out and give ourselves to the world. But that's why they call it the "hero's" journey. If it wasn't a challenge it'd be something like "the average person's" journey. Not quite as inspiring, eh?!? :)

Engage in your hero's journey! Find your own way. 

Check more of Brian's powerful, poignant and enlightened words at http://www.entheos.com/philosophersnotes/brianjohnson 

Contemplation

3 weeks ago, on a day like all the others, I fell over and hurt my leg. The sun came up as it always does, and usual stuff happened. Breakfast, coffee, the same good morning kiss from my beautiful wife. And then I'm writing an essay, in my study, indulging in the same procrastinatory thought processes. I hear something that captures my interest on the TV, and take a walk out to the lounge room. I never arrive... 

Unfastened shoe laces from my boots get caught as I walk, and I fall. I unconsciously hold onto the coffee cup I carry, saving it from demise on the tiled floor. My knee breaks my fall, and an excruciating pain shoots through my leg. I'm down, gripping my damaged right leg, and literally have to drag myself to the bedroom, a cold sweat covering my body. My wife, who is out at the time, returns to find me languishing on the bed, looking crazy with unfocused eyes, in serious pain. A trip to the hospital, an injection and an X-ray later suggests ligament damage, and I'm sent home with a pocket full of painkillers and instructions to keep the leg up. Doctors prognosis suggest several weeks recovery time. 

Fast forward 1 week - knee still swollen, recovery is slow, and pain is continual. A visit to the Orthopedic surgeon reveals a more serious situation - a 12cm femur fracture originating from the knee knuckle and a pool of fluid sitting inside the knee joint. After the dr extracted the blood and fluid deposit from my knee with a needle, a cast is installed from hip to heel (ass to ankle), and recovery time set at 4+ weeks. Make sure you keep the leg up, says the doctor, as I crutch my way out of the consultation room.

So sitting, now for three weeks, not able to drive or even get out of the house, I've been pondering, contemplating. The loss of mobility has forced a reevaluation. Whereas on a normal day, a thousand tasks vie for my attention, and I'm constantly on the go, jumping from one thing to the next, now I have severely limited physical movement, and a trip from the arm-chair to the toilet takes planning and lots of effort. I can't visit the fridge and grab a quick snack, as standing up requires both my arms to operate crutches. I'm reduced to washing in the bathroom basin - a sobering and humbling experience. 

As I describe the ordeal of the past three weeks, reevaluation was inevitable. The dark night of the soul often arrives when the normal routine is interrupted. Instead of busying myself with meaningless tasks, procrastinating with passion and purpose, surfing between tv channels, tidying my study when I should be studying... Worrying about inconsequential things like the time it takes to get to work, and the annoying drivers on the road. 

But I don't need to tell you right? I'm guessing if you are anything like me, then you know this pattern all too well... 

I'm 36 years of age, and I'm reevaluating the path that I am taking in my life. Am I on the right path? What a question... The answer goes deep, below the suite of facades I present to myself and the world. Below the work that I do, beyond the color of my skin, and the language that I speak. Beyond the quirky, quasi-intelligent comments I post on Facebook that represent "me". Past the resume that demonstrates past experience, study and interests, the perfectly polished online presence that I pedantically maintain, offering the world a managed snapshot of me. Crossing the great divide from what I think others want to see, to the inner working of my psyche - what is there? What is it that I really want?

My experience in the last few weeks has opened my eyes to what I have been missing, what i have been denying, what I have been running from. A good look at the big picture, where I'm heading and if that aligns with where I WANT to be heading. Do I even know where I want to be in 5 years? Here I am, hurtling along the highway of life, going somewhere fast. 

As Jim Rohn says, "In ten years time, you will surely arrive. The question is, Where?"

I'm not saying that I've got any more answers than I had three weeks ago, but I'm in a new mental space, looking outside of the box that routine delivers, away from the perpetual busy-ness that I have created in my life. It's a brave new world, the certainty of yesterday replaced with a scary yet somehow more authentic undefined tomorrow. 

Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow

It’s one of those days, you know the days that seem like all the others? 

So I’m driving into a shopping centre car park, and an old man crosses the road in front of me. The man - white wispy hair, crotchety and bent over - takes no notice of my approaching car…  I think it strange that he walks in front of me but lost in my own thoughts at the end of a busy day, I merely steer around him and park the car.

Before I know it, he is standing next to my car, a little too close for comfort. His piercing blue eyes hold my stare and capture my thoughts.

“Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow”, he says, with a clarity and firmness uncharacteristic of a man his age.

I look around – no one else seems to notice this man. Why is he talking to me? He looks at me again, eyes focussed and shining intensely.

“Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow”, he says.

I stop, my heart skipping a beat. What is he talking about? I sit lost in my own thoughts for nothing more than a few moments, and then a car behind me honks its horn bringing me back to ‘reality’. The man is gone – I wonder how he could move so fast after standing next to me just a few moments ago? I lock the car in a hurry, and run into the shopping centre looking for the man.

As with many matters of the spirit, it takes a while for the practical mind to comprehend what has happened. I’m not saying I understand it even now, but it takes a little while to sink in and metabolise a moment when destiny knocks. Spirit had tapped me on the shoulder - as I stood looking at the man with the piercing blue eyes, old and frail as he was, I saw myself. I saw my own age catching up with me, his words 'Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow' ringing through my consciousness like a herald call.

Where am I?

What am I doing?

Why am I doing it?

My heart screams out for me to listen. My head asks questions and seeks a rational answer. My body is buzzing, knowing that deep truth is being spoken. I ponder deeply. 

Before long, I find myself back at home, unaware of where the past 45 minutes had gone. I walk inside and stand looking at the mirror. Familiar piercing blue eyes hold my gaze.

Flapping about in the dust

A fish, torn from the water by a fisherman’s hook, lies flapping on the ground. It does not know why the current situation does not work, but it just doesn’t. And all the flapping in the world will not resolve the situation, but the fish goes on flapping.

I look around and see a lot of flapping going on… I see it in the mirror particularly. But unlike the fish, I know that I’m flapping. I know the current situation does not work, and I long for the ocean – if I could only work out what the ocean was FOR ME. How about you? Been flapping much lately? What’s the ocean for you – do you know? Are you looking, or have you, like the fish, become contented with flapping…

Apples and trees

For a long time I’ve been an apple, growing and falling and rolling. The tree that gave me life is still ‘around” but I’m now facing a shift – a shift from being an apple to being a tree. My loins have borne fruit and the love of my life carries child in her womb – soon a new apple will be born and I’ll be the old tree, nurturing, life giving, protecting as the apple grows and eventually, letting go as the apple falls and rolls away. And so the circle of life continues its sacred journey…