Letting go

Sometimes we get a choice, but mostly the ghosts intervene and everything, or most everything we hold dear, falls away.

In my case -- not that my backstory is worth remarking on -- endings have grown in importance, not just because they've shown me the real meaning of life but because it's part of who we are; namely, to be human, grown-up and no more and no less than our circumstance.

At this stage, you might be wondering where this post is headed. Nowhere, really. Previously that wasn't the case: I was all vim, vigour and hype. Of course, that too is part of being human -- i.e. a young man with great ambition or at least enough ambition to take me away from my barren, unloving and unloved life. But it wasn't me. It was a cloak to mask what was really going on.

I suppose all I'm saying is that we so often look for something out on the horizon that ends up being a chimaera. And that's fine. Fine in the sense that there's nothing to do, and certainly we shouldn't feel compelled to journey forth in the hope of replacing one faux dream with another. In any event, we'll do what we do, and go where we go, and we should see that for what it is -- a dynamic, flow of humanness.

I think it was Thomas Merton who said "Stand on you own two feet...", and the more I meditate on that divine expression, the more I'm driven to understand that to allow something deeper, more profound into my life I have to be prepared to let go to the fullest extent -- however much lament that might induce.

Anyhow, until the next time.

Much love,

Julian

Photo by Josh Nuttall on Unsplash