Work In Progress

It was JT who once sang, “The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time…” Everyone is always trying to figure out the secret of life. It must be desirable and elusive, this secret. But why the hell is it a secret? Makes sense that it would be something different for everybody. Or is there a universal recipe, some common list of ingredients?

Personally speaking, my life does not have to be a thrill a minute, one adventure after another. Please take a chill pill, all you adrenaline junkies out there. Afraid you might be bored for 30 seconds?

Personally speaking, my zest for life is bound- some would say constrained- by a belief that life is not all about me and my experiences. It’s not even about fulfilling dreams or (gag) being the best version of myself.

Maybe that’s part of my problem. So much of what passes for wisdom and advice so quickly sounds like self-serving platitude. Just well-worn phrases that quickly grow uninspiring.

When all is said and done, it’s about loving and being loved. Love may not be enough, though I’m not really sure what that means.

It’s about looking back and recognizing that one’s presence on earth has mattered to somebody else. We’re told over and over again that life is about collecting experiences, grabbing for as much gusto as we can. So life must be about appearances, facades, acquisitions, ladder climbing, achievement? Or it has to be this way until we feel we have everything we need, and then we can get off the hamster wheel and be who we really are, who we really want to be… which is just plain ridiculous.

The secret of life has something to do with realizing that we need not be constantly proving ourselves to somebody else.

Proving something to ourselves? That can be a different story.

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