Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Things I’ve Never Done

I've Never:

* Written a message on the bathroom stall
* Tiptoed through tulips
* Been to a nude beach
* Seen heaven
* Walked through a drive through
* Climbed a big wall.. I mean a REALLY big wall.
* Finished a song
* Played the mandolin
* Laid on the beach in Thailand
* Birthed children
* Broken a bone
* Found the end of the rainbow
* Been in a hurricane
* Tipped a cow
* Learned to ride a motorcycle
* Eaten bugs
* Made a mosaic
* Grown a garden
* Been the girlfriend of a Nascar racer
* Grown a beard
* Punched someone in the face
* Gutted an animal

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Being Genuine

"The authentic self is the soul made visible." - Sarah Ban Breathnach

To pursue a life of complete genuine-ity... to participate in real-ification... worthy pursuit, I imagine. Yet sometimes it seems that being real pushes the envelope of intimacy. And a deep and beautiful intimacy is good in real-ationships. But it’s very scary, too. If I continue to be authentic with this person, it’s going to be very hard for me to walk away unscathed. Do you find this to be true? When you’ve put hard work into any relationship and developed a deep and delicate lasting knowledge of who they are, walking away just isn’t an option. How can it be possible that I would KNOW someone so well and then drop them to the side? Is it healthy? Is it real?

If the best thing is to continue authenticity to build intimacy, then so be it. And if the best thing is to sacrifice authenticity to slow intimacy, then so be it? But if one sacrifices authenticity, do they lose thier true self? Sounds like a predicament to me.

Being Present

I drove to Canon City this weekend to climb. And as I was driving, I realized my gaze was almost entirely on the road. Now, I guess that’s good news for my driving skills, but I thought a little more about it and realized that I sort of get sucked in to living my life like this, too. Later in the day, I hiked along a trail that lead back to the crag and I found myself doing the same thing. Eyes on the trail. The time I spend moving my body to a new place seems like such a waste. I’m waiting. Just waiting to get there. To be where I need to be.
But there’s much beauty and value in living in the moment. This step that I took on the trail will never occur again. The clouds will never be like this again. And as soon as I’ve lived that second, it’s gone. I hope I’ve lived it well. But I can’t live that moment well if I’ve got a "when I get there" mentality. I started to look up. To notice. The shadows on the texture of the rock. The way the trees grew intertwined with another. The empty valley down below. I began to become present.
Life tumbles and turns underneath us and we catapult past minutes and days and moments as though the days are limitless. My life is very, very good right now. I have what I need. And I almost have what I want. I know the days ahead will bring their own beautiful story. But I can’t know what they will bring or what they will take. So what’s the use of living as though today isn’t enough for me?