Make No Bones About It.

I continuously surprise myself at the realization of the distance I must travel in terms of self-improvement and, consequently, self-actualization. This distance was again put into sharp focus last week during (my final) Spring Break -- this usually happens when I have the much-needed privilege and responsibility of looking after Veronica. There's nothing quite like parenting to give you the proper perspective of your position in the world; it dawned on me as well that I needed to apply the lessons I learn while trying to be a good father to other aspects of my life.

Last week, it was reinforced to varying degrees that I need to keep working on my senses of patience, fairness, discipline, permissiveness, consistency and empathy (this is a big one). I've made reference to them before, but the lack of those skills contribute to much of my internal instability. I'm glad I've started to really recognize what my deficits are, when I used to just ignore/deny my faults (which did absolutely no one any good).

Well, my road to recovery begins with the admittance of my shortcomings, and the progress I will take to overcome them. This week I embark on that journey. It's time to face my skeletons. Fittingly (and kinda hilariously), a screenshot from one of the videogames of my childhood represents this well.

See you at the top.

Rilke.

Stumbled across the following quote randomly a few years ago on a discussion forum, and it's interestingly relevant to me at this point in my life.

Once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue, a wonderful living side by side can grow, if they succeed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see the other whole against the sky.
- Rainer Maria Rilke

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I wish I'd remembered, and lived by, the essence of these words. It would have saved me a lot of grief. Nonetheless, it isn't too late to take them to heart.

Have a great Wednesday.

The Way It Should Be.

From a recent, enlightening phone conversation:

Starting over is highly overrated. You deal with what you're given and you do the best you can, and it all ends up the way it should be.
- a good friend of mine on life, 02 September 2009

Sometimes the simplest words paint the clearest pictures. Thanks for listening to me, and maybe I'll succeed in applying this little bit of wisdom to the ever-changing Rorschach inkblot that is my life right now.

Sunday Zen.

While reading up on minimalism and Zen today, I stumbled across this passage from Thoughts Without A Thinker by Mark Epstein:

“You see this goblet?” asks Achaan Chaa, the Thai meditation master. “For me this glass is already broken. I enjoy it; I drink out of it. It holds my water admirably, sometimes even reflecting the sun in beautiful patterns. If I should tap it, it has a lovely ring to it. But when I put this glass on the shelf and the wind knocks it over, or my elbow brushes it off the table and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say, 'Of course.' When I understand that the glass is already broken, every moment with it is precious.”

I realized that this a much more elegant (and eloquent) way of saying "Live each day as if it were your last."

My first reaction was that this is a backwards philosophy. How could you ever truly enjoy something if you knew that it was bound to fail or break, that your time with it was limited?  Wouldn't that knowledge make the resulting experience bittersweet?  How could you possibly achieve peace of mind if you went through life constantly expecting the end of things?  I couldn't see the benefit.

Though upon further contemplation, it makes a lot of sense to realign your thinking this way.  Nowhere does the passage tell you to adopt a pessimistic attitude about the natural impermanence of life and its experiences.  It doesn't say "Yes, it's beautiful, but it won't last anyway, so you might as well give up now" which is how one might initially interpret it, save for the last sentence.

When I understand that the glass is already broken, every moment with it is precious.

The wisdom of this is striking.  I suppose this has to do more with acceptance of the facts that life isn't perfect.  I know that tragedy and hardships are inevitable, but I typically have a hard time coping when things don't go as planned in my personal life.  Inwardly, I tend to see most things (worldviews, relationships, attitudes) as ideal. Maybe if I tried to really understand that there is room for a little acceptance that things are going to change -- and sometimes for the worse, life's journey would be a less stressful and I'd stop bugging out as much.  I don't expect myself to not be disappointed every time -- I think I'm a generally optimistic person -- but if I "hope for the best, but expect the worst" I'd be more prepared to travel through life's valleys.

This is truly a rare moment of personal serendipity because two days ago I had a phone conversation with someone close to me who said essentially the same thing.  "Life is hard," she said, "and you'll always have stress over something.  Don't expect anything to be as easy anymore ... because we've grown up.  But it's how you deal with it and move forward that's important."

It's a difficult philosophy for me to adopt, but absolutely essential in the long run.  Happy Sunday.