I have been working on my income tax returns for most of today, so my brains are just about mush by now (headed toward 8 p.m. Pacific time.) We’ll see how far we get tonight in terms of any deep wisdom or insights tonight. My commitment to this blog was not about having something deep or pithy to say every day, but simply to express something I am grateful for each day. I don’t want it to sound grander than it is; it’s a simple enough concept. I am grateful for those times when I really have had deep insights to share (deep as determined by what I learned from writing it more so than what was reported to me.) I am gratified that on many occasions a reader will comment that what I’d written was just what they’d needed to read, something lifted their spirits, deepened their understanding, tickled their funny bone or simply made them go, “Hmmmm.” Sometimes it has been those posts that were wrung out of me with every fiber of determination, the ones when I couldn’t get an idea across or didn’t have a solid idea in the first place–these too are among those that people find helpful. That is a good thing.
Today I was talking with a friend who reported to me that one of her children reported the feeling that she, “cannot see her future.” I thought about that for a moment and remarked, “Yes, but she’s only 25. She still has time to figure it out. I’m almost 55 and I can’t see my future either. That’s kind of scary.” The truth is, even for those who believe they can see their future–they have plans and ideas and goals for what they’re doing now and for what’s next–their futures are no more certain than mine is. It all can turn on a dime and everything gets thrown on its head. It reminds me of the Buddhist notion of impermanence: the sense that everything is in a state of flux. I don’t need to see my whole future laid out before me; however I would like to see at least what my next steps might be for say the next six months. There are a lot of things in flux right now, not just in my life but in the lives of a whole lot of people I know. I don’t think it’s a coincidence. I think there’s a lot happening in the cosmos that is feeding this sense of “up-in-the-air-ness” that so many of us are experiencing.
Knowing this is helpful because it means I’m not totally nuts or in this alone (unless I am part of a mass delusion.) It does mean that I need to stay the course I’ve been on in terms of trying to cultivate a sense of equanimity about what’s happening around me; Pema Chodron calls it becoming “comfortable with uncertainty.” I’ve definitely learned that railing about lack of clarity in my life has done very little to bring about the clear seeing I need to help me determine next steps. I am learning that if I can remain calm in the midst of the swirl I am more likely to gain the insights I need than if I allow myself to get swallowed up in fear and anxiety about what’s happening (or not happening as the case may be) around me. I am grateful for the moments of peace and tranquility that occur in the midst of the chaotic uncertainty that’s been my life for these many months. I am actively honing the skills and techniques that I’m hoping will stretch those moments of peace into longer periods of time. How cool would it be to stretch them out to the point where I’m living most of my life in that calm space with only the occasional moments of frenzy? Methinks that would be very cool indeed.
Perhaps I can’t see my future right now because I’m instead supposed to be making my future. A radical concept, and I have no idea at the moment what that means in real terms. Nevertheless it’s definitely an idea to ponder and to continue to define for myself. What is the future I want to see, the one I want to create? For now I will content myself with working on what’s right in front of me and continue making my intentional steps toward the doors I want to open. Priest and writer Henri Nouwen offers these thoughts:
“Often we want to be able to see into the future. We say, “How will next year be for me? Where will I be five or ten years from now?” There are no answers to these questions. Mostly we have just enough light to see the next step: what we have to do in the coming hour or the following day. The art of living is to enjoy what we can see and not complain about what remains in the dark. When we are able to take the next step with the trust that we will have enough light for the step that follows, we can walk through life with joy and be surprised at how far we go. Let’s rejoice in the little light we carry and not ask for the great beam that would take all shadows away.”I believe I’ll rejoice in the little light I carry and continue cultivating the sense of gratefulness for the life I have right now. The future will emerge from that. May we all live with joy, ease, and wellbeing. Let it be so!
