Thursday, April 9, 2015
What I can claim to own out of the ocean of my life experience would fit into a thimble. And what I would call wise in that thimble is less than a few drops.
I am not complaining, more like realistically assessing what I have gleaned so far from this life.
And what little wisdom I have harvested does not seem to help much in the problems confronting me: an aging father with dementia, sons looking for a place to stand, meaningful work, a house that needs work, lots of work, a cat that needs to lose weight.
I want to become more detached, more selfless, kinder, more present. I want a world that is not on the brink of environmental collapse, an atmosphere free from greenhouse gasses. I want habitat for wildlife, opportunity for young people, healthcare when anyone needs it. Pretty simple stuff.
All of these things seem to be out of sync with what makes money. Corporate economy wants workers good at numbers who can channel money to the bottom lines. More money. Always more money, the primary motivator, it seems, the reality of these times.
I want to let go of the money chase, to live within my means.
I do have some words and some skills with language. I doubt that I can live off that though. I don't see a best-seller coming out of my brooding ruminations. I can think, more or less, though it is harder and harder to learn.
I have health and a body that is still strong enough for physical work.
I have a heart.
I have a little time.
I have desires to align all of these into a life on fire, well-lived, without regret when the time comes to let it go.