Mom always said you can be anything you want to be. This isn’t true. And in fact creates a lot of pain and suffering in your life. You take a germ of an idea. You grow it. You make it your own. You think, this is what I was born to do. And in engaging with it you find that there’s still something missing. You move on to the next germ of an idea.
Mom probably wanted me to be a surgeon. She told me I could be Prime Minister. Those were her dreams not mine. But being told I could be anything I wanted created a huge number of wild goose chases. Sometimes I’d succeed. In fact, I’m usually good at everything I do. But I’ve never been excellent at one thing. Somewhere deep inside me I always envied those kids who stuck to one path and succeeded. I had to be and know everything.
Mom was wrong. In fact you can only be who you really are — who you are at the point before and after time. Seeing life this way recontexts the journey. The “search” is different. It, in and of itself, becomes the one path.
Nothing is real. Not intention. Not identity. Not belief. Not behaviour. It is all made up. It’s the world of labels; of the need for the creation of meaning and definitions.
We can move through life, like rain falling. Like water thawing. We sit, we only sit.
Breathe like a river in a desert full of rain.
December 29, 2013