This is a story about the goodness of humans mixed with the apprehension of challenges.
I love people. I’ve had primarily beautiful experiences with fellow humans. (Of course, there’ve been dark days when I’ve been scared, hurt, or felt like I was going it alone. I imagine some of you may have experienced that too.)
Yesterday, I was at a retina specialist again. (I had eye surgery two years ago—awake—the most challenging and physically painful experience ever.) Although the appointment showed that nothing was yet detached this time, it’s inevitable.
Since that heightened awareness state, I’ve been thinking about some of the needs and desires we have as humans; fears that can strike at any moment, joys that can fill a soul with life, spaces in the middle where normalcy tries keeping us at bay even when there are storms.
I’m aware that we sometimes choose subjugation of our needs and desires for that of another. We also, at times, allow fellow humans to take our courage or trivialize our sense of conviction, giving up what God desires; us living into the highest and best versions of ourselves with truth and honesty.
Being—as opposed to doing—is rarely valued in our culture. When very young, we’re often told there’s so much to: do, accomplish, and be. Many of us have overflowing schedules keeping us in perpetual motion from waking until we close our eyes at night.
But then what?
What happens when:
• you’ve crossed all the “things I have to do and be” off the list?
• the children you’ve spent your life raising—being the best parent you could—move out, on, or away?
• the career you strove to excel at (your entire identity wrapped up in it) ends?
• the relationship you invested all of yourself in falls apart?
• your continual “doing” leaves you with no idea what “being” feels like?
We often choose lives controlled by the “should haves” of our culture or upbringing, missing the opportunity for so many “could haves;” then we mourn the experiences we wish we “would have” had.
We’re too often like automatons with pre-scripted, less-than-fulfilling, non-thinking routines. Then, one day, we wake up—literally and figuratively—and finally, decide to simply be. But how?
Creating Change: Could, Would, Should
• What could you alter or re-tune to slow down and enjoy the time you have?
• Would you commit to making your life more meaningful, changing your thinking from “These are the material possessions I desire” to “Wow, look at all I have”?
• What peace-full choices should you make to leave a positive footprint on our planet?
• And, collectively, as fellow humans, will we decide to look at each other and not only see the human body in front of us but acknowledge and see the divine?
What is important?
How do we spend the time we have?
What do we leave behind?
I’m often better at “doing” than “being,” but I’m working at it. Would you join me on this journey?
And so…our conversation continues.