I have been thinking lately about how difficult it is for me to be content. I don’t know if its just me, or if its my culture, my gender, religion, or simply being human (or some Molotov cocktail of all of those) but something in me is constantly yearning for whats next — forever discontent with life as it is.
But really, when I am clear headed, I know that the following is true (pretty much every day):
Today was a perfect day: When my day began my wife, my son and I were healthy, happy and in love with each other. Now that my day is nearing its end, all of that is still true. Today was a perfect day.
Jason, it isn’t just you, maybe it’s our culture, it isn’t your gender, I don’t think it has anything to do w/ religion, & it is probably just being human. I have a constant struggle w/ being content too. I try to focus really hard on being thankful for what I do have & where I am at, but I’m often a slave to the “what’s next” thoughts. Another thing I try to do is remember how I got where I’m at . . . those long journeys sometimes help me have better prospective about the awesomeness of my current position. Sometimes. If you conquer it tell me the secret.
Thanks Angie, good to know I’m not alone.
Hah! You really do need to read Ecclesiastes now! Everything is “chasing after wind” anyway, all the matters are what you had in your poem and relationship with God. Eat, drink, be merry for tomorrow we die! Of course this is easy for me to say as you know one of fundimental character traits is to just “go” (more machine than man), but I think I see this same struggle in Dorothy at times.
Totally, and this is why i need more Josh Kern in my life! Oh well, i guess Ecclesiastes will have to do.
Universal condition. If you get really good at it you could become a full time writer or blogger. Think about it, what is most self-reflection or art about? Is it not to capture the ephemeral nature of existence? Idealize it? At the least, in all poverty, to define it, stomp on it, and put it in the box where it belongs. I think what we’ve lost as post-modern (well, post-post modern) Westerners is a true sense of mystery. How do we go about regaining the experience of mystery?
What I’m looking for here is not a list of things but a map.