I have lately been perplexed by the very distinct impression that life is a series of highs and lows—ups and downs—ins and outs—and that the goal, expressed by my favorite new testament personality Paul (aside from you know who) of “…I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am”, is always going to be just a little bit beyond my grasp or understanding.
As most of you know, I enjoy blogging—the very act of putting my thoughts together gives me a peace that is difficult to fully describe.
When I have “something” to wirte about—a revelation or slant or perception that seems like it is going somewhere—I am a happy camper. I listen to music, read books and poetry and have long converstations with my wife which often produce fuel for contemplation and further written investigation. I am also an observer of people and events and very often the act of living everyday is my muse.
I have great friends and a good job and some very special children.
So what is lacking: a consistancy of being constant.
Last week I was making progress with my life—overcoming the very obstacles that were set in place by the enemy of my soul to keep me from living life to its fullest. Today, after several full frontal attacks, I feel I am a shell of my former self. My former self being that person I had become comfortable with during the past couple of weeks of overcoming part five thousand and sixty two.
There always seems to be an event or singular circumstance that knocks me off my perceived course. In psychological terms it is called a trigger—an action that produces a response that can be either life affirming or the other way around. And to make matters worse, what knocked me for a loop I didn’t expect or see coming.
I guess I tend to look at life as a series of little steps that when taken move us forward and into our destiny. Healing is a similar process—the house gets built with each subsequent brick that is placed upon the one before it. What was once a single brick becomes a wall with the addition of sand and water and cement.
And I guess therein lies the problem and the quandry I find myself in all too often—is the house already built for me or am I in the process of learning the steps in order to construct it myself?
As I write I am reminded of a book I once read by Albert Camus about the myth of Sisyphus. The final chapter compares the absurdity of man’s life with the situation of Sisyphus, a figure of Greek mythology, who was condemned to repeat forever the same meaningless task of
pushing a rock up a mountain, only to see it roll down again. The essay
concludes, “The struggle itself is enough to fill a man’s heart. One
must imagine Sisyphus happy.”
Now I don’t believe that life is meaningless but I can and do sometimes relate to pushing the rock up a mountain only to see it fall back down again. In other words we see a flaw in our lives and work to amend it and after a strong week or two get kicked in the very area of advancement. Then we wallow around for a bit before we pick ourselves up and begin the process of moving forward again—happily not from the same way back place but from one a little closer to our destination than what we had achieved before the current set-back. Ad naseum—ad infinitum or something like that.
My friend David says that he has quit playing that particular game and fully believes that he has arrived for all practical purposes. And to a greater degree I believe that he has—but I am not quite there yet—not that I won’t ever be.
Life really is a ride. But sometimes the highway department comes along and in their attempt to fix a road actually make it worse for a bike rider. They give it the old mountain “tar and fine gravel” treatment rather than lay down some real asphalt. What was once a smooth surface for me to travel on becomes one that I avoid and wonder why they did what they did. So I look for another route to take in order to make my ride interesting—or continue to endure the bumpy pavement.
Ultimately I guess a ride is a ride is a ride and I should be thankful for that much. It’s getting late and I will give this whole thing some more thought tomorrow. Keep you eyes on the road.