Our real calling then is not to mark the passage of time with a wish we’ll morph into who we’re supposed to be, but to rest in the quiet knowing of who we already are. Who we’ve always been
I think it’s small moments of discipline that get us through challenges. In movies, these moments are collected in montages because they can sometimes be boring or kind of regular unless there’s a sweet song playing. It takes consistent hard work to be an extraordinary person. It means you have to trust the process and show up each day.
Sometimes people notice me out on the porch and sometimes they keep walking. And maybe they notice me but they pretend they don’t – because I know I feel some ownership over this street and I know they must feel some right to park on it. So we’re cautious in our knowing and unknowing of the other people who pass along down the road.
I wonder when such an early morning hour became a time to wake up instead of the last moment when things could happen. I wonder why I believe that a good day is measured by things going according to plan and why we’ve started to find comfort in predicting tomorrow and why we applaud ourselves when we choose to not stay up late anymore because that’s an adult thing to do.
But there comes a time (say, one year with no sofa) when one realizes that the idea of something is never going to equal the arrival of something or the remaining of something. It can’t. We play this trick on ourselves and create these pressures and don’t allow life to flow up against us because we’re too busy trying to channel life into what we want it to be.