Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Two Years

It's been two years. Two years since Neptune decided to park herself on my Descendant, turning my T-square into an unavoidable Grand Cross. It left me impaled indelicately at the center of it, twisting and turning and finding no relief from Neptune's relentless dissolving. Every structure, every discipline, every firm boundary previously welded into place turned flimsy.

So much has disappeared in that time. So much has come and even more has gone: jobs and roles and living spaces and friends and associates and addresses and phone numbers and the essential meaning I had assigned to my life. I miss some of it, and others of it I am relieved to be free of. But the underlying truth to all of that is that whatever has faded away from my life, or whatever has been yanked out of it, left because that energy couldn't be sustained.

I have no space for complication, confusion or chaos or the accompanying excitement and drama that are their inevitable companions. I don't need the distraction or the hopefulness of illusion.

I have a couple of movies that seem to bookend this experience, one a story of loneliness and loss, and one a story of connectedness and family. And both end with tragic death, which is the essential human reminder to PAY ATTENTION while you still can. They nicely reflect my own journey, my own waking up to how meaning truly gets made.

It seems a great gift to live long enough to realize that truth and wisdom aren't about the answers nearly so much as the questions. I am deeply suspicious of anyone claiming to have the answers. I was that person for too long, and it carries with it the kind of arrogance that instantly separates you from everyone else. I know some answers, and some that are exactly right for me. But all the answers? To all the important questions? That's got to be reflected in the quality of love you have for everyone else in our very crazy, deeply injured family of humanity.

I don't want to read more books or listen to more lectures right now. I don't want to consult more experts. First, before you say a single word, show me your heart, and how well it works. Then I'll know how true your answers are.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Being Important

I had an idea when I was much younger about living 'an important life.' I wanted to make a difference and be someone who counted, someone who mattered. I didn't want to get stuck in ordinary life, doing ordinary things and being ordinary myself.

Perhaps it's maturity, or experience, or tiredness, or just the realization that 'being important' is a completely artificial construct, but this notion now seems so arrogant.

What is important? And to whom? The important people in my life aren't global movers and shakers, decision-makers and the rich and famous. The important people in my life are the ones who love well, offer caring and support, value what I have to offer, and have time to share a laugh or conversation or even silence.

It is said that "G*d is pleased with an honest heart." Probably 'cause He, along with everyone else, is pleased with the simple, the pure, the real, the truly important. G*d is smart to be pleased with an honest heart; that's important stuff.