Monday, October 17, 2016
Things weren't that bad. He had enough to eat, a bed to sleep in, comfort beyond the dreams of most of his fellow souls here on earth. If he snapped a bone, a surgeon would mend it. If his car broke down, a tow truck would haul it to a shop.
Yet, he couldn't help but notice a tug pulling him forward out of the ho-hum of good enough. He had a brother with whom he had not spoken in years beyond years. He gave up in little ways when called to cultivate joy, fell short when invited to dance the dance of intimacy.
The boundaries of his world were wide enough to accommodate a life that passed in comfort and complacency.
But he was not on fire, not appreciative of the gift of his life. So he pulled the lever of chance and dared to ask for something bigger.
As luck would have it, a doorway appeared, and it was guarded by two dogs: possibility and action taken for something bigger than yourself. Pass this way, a sign said, and you will have to cut the cords that bind your broken heart, unlock the cage that contains a crazy dancer, and drop the shackles that keep you from embracing anything larger than self-interest. It is in serving that you save yourself, become the hero of your own life. It is, as a great book says, in giving that we receive.
Beyond the first steps, he could not see where the path led, but something in him knew that his heart would light the way, if only he could turn in back on. It was only in taking a step, willing himself to have enter the domain of making a difference, having an effect, embracing his lost brother, that he would become what a man might be.
In spite of a nattering "It's too hard," and "you can't do this," and "you'll get lost, burned, beaten, and worse," he lifted his hand, and pulled open the gate.
It was time to step through the portal, take his turn at the rudder that guides this leaking vessel called Humanly Possible to steer it toward the broad and infinitely retreating horizon.