The green reeds quietly sway eastwards as the sun
fades, casting its shadow over the simmering
horizon. A large boar gently emerges
from the shaded mudded creek, closes its eyes, and lets the gentle breeze harden
the mud on its face. When the boar
opens its eyes, the flitter of its eyelid causes the mud to break. The mud falls
like bits of sand and gently dances in the air like pollen. The boar is free.
A black-footed ferret gazes up into the oak tree. The bark of the tree is cold and wetted with the
first year’s snowfall. No matter how
much she tries, she cannot climb. Her
eyes are fixated on a particular branch of the oak tree; on that branch rests a
robin nest. The mother robin is away, the black-footed ferret is a mother too. She can hear her kits high pitched whimpers
crescendo in the wind. She cannot leave
this tree. The crescendos heighten, and
heighten, and heighten. The black-footed
ferret’s gaze focuses on the rattling branch, and then to swiftly to the robin nest
which hangs by a thread. The nest
collapses, the eggs fall on the bedded snow with hardly a crack. The black-footed ferret is free.
The night sky is clouded; the moon emerges from time to time
through the clouds. It emerges long enough for the little girl to count its
craters, its crevices, and dark spots before it once again vanishes. The girl sits on a black swing in a small park
that only she knows of. Her fingers
grasp the swing‘s alloy chains, but she lacks the energy to swing. Her eyes are
red and watery, her head furrowed, her lips downcast like the moon, and her
nose sniffles away. She lets go of her
grasp on the alloy chains, and buries her face into her delicate palms. She’s all
alone. Suddenly, a tender gust engulfs
her. Goosebumps emerge under the thickness
of her jacket. The gust holds her tight.
Although the green grass, wooden fences, window panes, and trees too bend, the wind
is focused on her. It gently grasps her tightly. She inhales the friendly gust through her
nostrils, and lets it rest in her body. The gust dries her water eyes, and her
hair blows without inhibition. The young
girl is free.
The wind blows and blows. Through summer and fall, through winter
and spring, through times of plenty and times of famine, through times of joy
and times of hardness the wind blows. In
your darkest moments and your deepest triumphs, in your light hardships and
soft agonies, in your heavy burdens and joyous burdens, the wind blows. Just like night turns to day and just like the
freshness christens the morning air after a night’s rain, the wind blows. It blows without volition and causes all
things to pass. So, in the servitude of
acrimony, the melancholies of melancholy, the nightmares which exist to eyes
wide open unburdened with sleep. Remember
like the mudded boar emerging from the creek. Remember lik the black footed
ferret gazing up the oak tree. Remember
like the little girl grasping the swing’s alloy chain on that moon covered
night. Remember, just like them, that
the Wind will set you free.
What pushes you? Is it just gravity, that mystical force which set the universe in place? Maybe its the wind, it blows you to and fro. Perhaps, its some other describable external force such as a parent, friend, or rival. Yet, what about places where these forces cannot reach? Better yet, when you are at a place in life where nothing can hold you down and no one can look down upon you, then what keeps you motivated to keep striving?
For example, when Einstein made discoveries in quantum physics and photo electric effect what drove him to theorize that it was all relative. Indeed, Einstein's life would have viewed his life a failure if he could not figure that very conundrum; it drove him. The beautitudes of Matthew lists attributes of man that are and remain blessings: meekness, merciful, poor in spirit, those who mourn etc.
The beatitudes never say, "blessed is the man who, even amongst his success, sees unending failure" or "blessed is the man who remains thirsty like a parched beast in the scorching desert even though his life has been more bountiful than the waters of the Niagara." Truth be told, it is probably a curse; the curse of non-complacency. The curse that is defined as never ever being happy with any of your accomplishments or, alternatively, immediately setting new goals once an accomplishment has been reached such that you don't have the time to revel in the aforesaid accomplishment. In other words, the antithesis of satisfaction a life where sad will be your faction unless you keep putting your goals in action.
You may call these individuals gluttons for success. Individuals who push the boundary. Individuals who have a malfunction because they simply do not "stop." Stop, you already have your degree. Stop, you already have a degree upon a degree. Stop, you already passed your test. Stop, you already have a job. Stop, you already have a great job. We work hard to reach a point of success, so "stop" because you have already reached it. Please stop, because the roses are in full bloom, and smell so wonderful.
For those cursed with the inability to ever be satisfied, driven to be the best, burning with a zeal to reach an artificial peak of their own creation, these pleads of "stop" fall on deaf ears. Some may not understand it, but it is what it is. While some find joy in games, partying, television, or relaxation, others find it in being better than everyone else or, at the very least, being better than they were the day, minute, or even second before. A never ending process.
A process is defined as a series of actions or steps taken to achieve an end. I must confess, I am one of those that does not see an end in sight. Reach a goal, and then reach a higher goal, and before you know it, you'll reach a place that not even you could have dreamed of.
Humanity is so wondrous and amazing. At times, I catch myself mesmerized by things I once thought so trite. For example, the ability of my fingers to flutter at not even a moment’s thought is fascinating to me at this very moment. Likewise, the ability I have to inhale air into my lungs which fuels the life of my body, too, is amazing. However, both these activities are more than simply amazing, they are also something that is not guaranteed. I have full faculties intact in terms of my nervous system and sensory organs, but it is not as if that had to be the case.
Yet, I, and I assume others like myself, seldom pause to reflect on this amazing fact. There are countless people in the world who cannot even move their eyelids and thereby, in a state of complete paralysis, remain blind to the world. Yet, perhaps, it is I, and I assume many others, who are the ones actually blind to the world. As stated before, humanity is wondrous and amazing from head to toe, from poetry to prose, from luminous paintings to lucid sculptures, from hardworking business men to giddy indolent childish boys. Yet, the one thing that amazes even me is our ability to complain and, thereby, not truly appreciate what we have.
Now, that is not to say that all complaining is bad. For I believe, if there is no complaint, then there can be no advancement. In order to advance, humanity must look back at what it does have and thereafter decide to want something beyond the current circumstance. I suppose that somewhere in the infancy of our species to modern times that in-between what one had and what one wanted there likely was a complaint immersed in the middle. We as a species had to complain about being nomadic hunter-gathers in order to become semi-sedentary horticulturalists. We as a species had to complain about the toil of dragging wild game, heavy branches, and even ourselves through the coarse grounds, in order to inspire the ingenuity to create the lever, the pulley, and the wheel. We as a species had to complain about individualized labor inefficiencies in order to create a compartmentalized efficacious society. Thus, perhaps 1) complaint simply is and always has been a human trait or 2) there is some sort of genetic evolutionary benefit to complaint that developed and still survives in our species today.
With that said, I think, no I insist, that even amongst our complaints, we as a species must also be appreciative. The truth is that most people, especially those in America, are extremely blessed. Therefore, I find no fault with complaints about a fairly weak 5.2 earthquake in Virginia, and I find no fault with complaints about an Atlantic hurricane that extended along the east coast delaying flights from New York to the District of Columbia. I, however, do find fault when those same people puff up their cheeks like Chicken Little and unyieldingly declare that “the world is coming to an end” or that such event is “a sign of the end times.” Now, I am truly sorry that the earthquake in Virginia caused some people to stumble, cars to fumble, and a few buildings to crumble, but I do not mumble when I say that it did not cause one single death as to humans. Furthermore, I am truly sorry that Hurricane Irene caused a few billion in damages and the loss of 45 American lives. Yet, one must put into context and take some sort of consideration of what transpired in Haiti, Japan, and Indonesia when viewing these events.
How arrogant and insipidly foolish does it become to think that civilization as we know it is ending because of a little 5.2 earthquake in Virginia that killed not a single person when over 16,000 died in Japan, over 100,000 died in Haiti, and over 200,000 in the Indonesia and its bordering countries from much larger and much more devastating earthquakes. How arrogant and naïve it is to base the existence and continuance of the entire world, consisting of 196 countries, off of one country, the United States of America.
Now, I am not claiming that all complaints are that wild and outlandish as to involve the actual upheaval and destruction of world as we know it, but I am asking that we bring our complaints down to earth. For example, I hear people complain about the recession. Now, I believe the complaint is incredibly reasonable, but at least appreciate that this is a country where there exists actually hope to climb out of the slump and, even with the slump, the standard of living is still better than 99 percent of all other countries. When I think of the burden I, and many others carry, I realize it pales in comparison to the burden faced by many others in this country whose burden, likewise, pales in comparison to many others in this world.
Yet, isn’t it such a striking dichotomy, and I base this off of life experiences, that the ones with the least amount seem to be amongst the most appreciative. I’ve seen, personally, those with hardly any clothes to wear, without electricity, without clean water, without infrastructure, without access to proper medical care, without the things that I have and have had my whole life, be more content and more appreciative of life than I am. Amongst whatever little things they have and the numerous things that they do not, they remained thankful and full of praise. Further, I have seen documentaries, read news stories, and kept my ears open to the stories of countless others who remained incalcitrantly full of a high spirited positive outlook on life when it seemed like, based on their life, that they should be the first ones wreathing in dirt filled bitterness and insatiably full of grievances.
I, for one, am beyond humbled by the example of life that they showed me. Whenever I feel sad, lonely, stressed, or am experiencing other forms of discontent, I remind myself of the optimistic life that they live. If even one of them could remain appreciative when iniquity seemed to be the one and only thing that correlated with their existence, then why can’t I remain appreciative too when I face so much less.
As stated before, humanity is wondrous and amazing. Moreover, we as individuals only have once chance to experience the wonders and amazement of humanity on this planet. Therefore, I urge that in our relatively short time on this planet that we recognize this, turn from our complaining ways, and become ambassadors and diplomats of the beauty of life by remaining appreciative in the good as well as the bad times. Thus, although I advise you to take time and smell the roses, more importantly, I advise you to appreciate the wonderful fact that you even can.
