I spent so much of my life up to this point prophesying about how my life will be. Knowing. For certain. All the things I will have. How it’s going to work. Getting to that place. I will finally master it.
All of it involves perfection.
And infinite amounts of money.
Both of which, in my current book of reality, are unattainable impossibilities, (and I might add, undesirable).
We have money, but we don’t really have it. We build up the savings for the next unforeseeable breakdown, only to have to save money again. We find the perfect pair of shoes, or the most amazing technological gadget, only to find them mundane and predictable months later.
Often we block our lives, not living to our potentials, fear and static, we chose inaction over risk and challenge. Other times we have it all together, everything works, the risks feel good, and we wonder what we’re doing right, and hope it never ends. So many factors, rich in interaction, offer so many different opportunities for living the good life.
Which brings me to the curious idea of what life is supposed to be.What is life supposed to be, really? Do we have it wrong when we struggle? Do we have it right when we’re happy? Is life supposed to be anything? If we even can just let it be, could it be?
What will life be, if we let it be?
Will life be less of a rat race if we left it all alone?
The never ending running, in the same place,
Thinking we are moving, running, walking,
Going somewhere other than where we are,
To stop and find ourselves where we started.
Will life be a like the infinity pools that merge with the horizon?
Stillness. Never ending peace.
With the faint scent of rose petals and patchouli.
And a feeling of caressing silk and bamboo sateen.
Enveloping inward. Growing infinitely.
Will life be like the hope in a newborn baby?
Young. The insatiable thirst for knowledge and learning.
Abundant in opportunity.
Every experience new and exciting.
Hope, joy and happiness.
Will life be like the best song you’ve ever heard?
When you can’t stop your toes from tapping,
Your booty from shaking,
Your arms from flailing,
And your voice from singing its praises of joy and delight.
Will life be like the book you can’t put down?
All consuming words, characters.
Escape from reality.
To just turn the page.
To know what happens.
To have all the answers.
Will life be like the traffic on the freeway?
When your car is in park.
And you’re not moving an inch.
In the heat and the stench of exhaust.
You know you have to be somewhere,
But there’s no way you’re getting there.
Anytime soon, at least.
You attempt to see the accident,
The discovery of what’s blocking your roadway,
Only to realize it is too far off in the distance.
Left to hurry up and wait.
Will it be like a soft evening breeze after a hot day?
Flirting with the beaded sweat on your neck.
Lifting the wafting hair pieces to float.
Life will be life.
Rich with emotion.
For love. For joy.
For sadness. For disappointment.
Existing in each moment.
Yearning for meaning.
Accepting of change.
What will life be if you let it be?