Tonight I found myself mildly overwhelmed by the prospects of the future, the big, wide, expansive, vast, nearly infinite future of the life of my physical body. I pondered questions of worth and value, significance and, ultimately, purpose.
“What is my purpose?” I wondered. From what I hear, this is a hard question to answer. From an absolute point of view, I’m not sure there is a reason to be alive, a purpose, a meaning. I’m not sure that this physical dance of atoms and molecules is worth anything. And that isn’t a sad thing, just a fact seen when the rose-colored glasses are removed.
However, in pursuit of some solace, I felt I needed an answer, so I lowered my consciousness to realm of subjective points of view. What is my subject purpose? To inspire people? No. To become a great this or that? Any direction I turned, the stench of failure loomed, as I am better at replaying my previous failures than successes, and failure of a cause is inevitable at some point in the future anyway.
Amidst it all was the sense of directionlessness. When nothing matters, then what matters? And indeed, in the world of observable fact, nothing matters. Things are only as important as the stories we tell ourselves about them.
Though it might not seem it, this very abyssal perspective is what brought me back to basics. Since I am not planning on killing myself today (or at least my physical body. We’ll talk more about the metaphor of suicide later), then what is there? Well, there are the basics: food, water, shelter. Interestingly, Maslow’s hierarchy of needs adds “sex” to the very foundation of the pyramid. I wonder about that. I’m not anti-sex. I’m very pro-sex. But is it a necessity for the body to keep on existing? I should think not.
Anyway, I was relieved because I realized what had been going on: my wild 24 year old mind had been looking at life like a forest, and I had to cut the whole thing down. Hundreds of acres to fell, and just me and an axe to do it. So went the metaphor in my mind’s eye. And it looked so big and daunting, I knew I could never do it all, so why try? Where to start?
But then I thought: just one tree. Just one tree. That’s all it takes to get started. And who knows about afterward? But for now, just one tree.
Not even one tree. One step towards the tree. Then another. Then another. Maybe. Just one swing of the axe, to feel the reverberation of cause and effect ripple through the steel into the wooden handle and up into my arms. Then another. This one felt different. The tree gave way slightly more, the wood was softer underneath.
Then experimentation. Swinging at an angle, different rhythms, using my hips, my back, my arms, my head, my butt. Where does it feel best to swing from?
And then, before it is known, “the doer has vanished wholeheartedly into the deed.” This is the state so many ancient wisdom teachings speak of. The above is a quote from the Tao Te Ching, as translated by Stephen Mitchell.
To summarize: just one step. Just basics. Glory can wait. It certainly isn’t guaranteed. Riches, success, fame, acclaim, changing the world, saving the world; these can all wait. My efforts may go unnoticed. Who is to say I have a right to the consequences of my actions, anyway? Who’s to say I’ll ever see my garden flower? But I till it, nonetheless, the beautify the Earth.
“What is my purpose?” I wondered. From what I hear, this is a hard question to answer. From an absolute point of view, I’m not sure there is a reason to be alive, a purpose, a meaning. I’m not sure that this physical dance of atoms and molecules is worth anything. And that isn’t a sad thing, just a fact seen when the rose-colored glasses are removed.
However, in pursuit of some solace, I felt I needed an answer, so I lowered my consciousness to realm of subjective points of view. What is my subject purpose? To inspire people? No. To become a great this or that? Any direction I turned, the stench of failure loomed, as I am better at replaying my previous failures than successes, and failure of a cause is inevitable at some point in the future anyway.
Amidst it all was the sense of directionlessness. When nothing matters, then what matters? And indeed, in the world of observable fact, nothing matters. Things are only as important as the stories we tell ourselves about them.
Though it might not seem it, this very abyssal perspective is what brought me back to basics. Since I am not planning on killing myself today (or at least my physical body. We’ll talk more about the metaphor of suicide later), then what is there? Well, there are the basics: food, water, shelter. Interestingly, Maslow’s hierarchy of needs adds “sex” to the very foundation of the pyramid. I wonder about that. I’m not anti-sex. I’m very pro-sex. But is it a necessity for the body to keep on existing? I should think not.
Anyway, I was relieved because I realized what had been going on: my wild 24 year old mind had been looking at life like a forest, and I had to cut the whole thing down. Hundreds of acres to fell, and just me and an axe to do it. So went the metaphor in my mind’s eye. And it looked so big and daunting, I knew I could never do it all, so why try? Where to start?
But then I thought: just one tree. Just one tree. That’s all it takes to get started. And who knows about afterward? But for now, just one tree.
Not even one tree. One step towards the tree. Then another. Then another. Maybe. Just one swing of the axe, to feel the reverberation of cause and effect ripple through the steel into the wooden handle and up into my arms. Then another. This one felt different. The tree gave way slightly more, the wood was softer underneath.
Then experimentation. Swinging at an angle, different rhythms, using my hips, my back, my arms, my head, my butt. Where does it feel best to swing from?
And then, before it is known, “the doer has vanished wholeheartedly into the deed.” This is the state so many ancient wisdom teachings speak of. The above is a quote from the Tao Te Ching, as translated by Stephen Mitchell.
To summarize: just one step. Just basics. Glory can wait. It certainly isn’t guaranteed. Riches, success, fame, acclaim, changing the world, saving the world; these can all wait. My efforts may go unnoticed. Who is to say I have a right to the consequences of my actions, anyway? Who’s to say I’ll ever see my garden flower? But I till it, nonetheless, the beautify the Earth.
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