It’s early morning here, and it’s cold. This weekend we rented a lake house for a couple of days in the Pacific Northwest. The house is old, like built in 1924 old, and the primary method of heating it is a wood burning stove with a fan that really makes some noise.
Waking up this morning to the delights of a cold house and the task of heating it by starting a fire really made me grateful for the comforts of home.
Yet although it was freezing, it was not unpleasant.
It’s very early in the season, so it’s pretty quiet around us. Right now there is a persistent drizzle of rain, which is kind of a staple of life here, but it means that the landscape is green, and the pine trees are verdant.
The water on the lake responds to the wind with ripples rather than waves, and there’s this sense of quiet serenity that seems to pervade every breath, every moment.
The stillness is a wonderful backdrop against which to feel.
I’m becoming more and more convinced that the pace of our everyday lives is reaching a level of toxicity that we will not realize for some time, and when we do it will almost be too late.
I think the reason that mindfulness is becoming a movement is because people are realizing that the real purpose of life is to experience the universe in a way that allows us to find meaning in it.
And right now we just don’t have time for that.
Because we’re onto the next thing, the new thing, the 7 tips to a flatter stomach, the car that will make you feel like you’re good enough, or the bigger home that will somehow magically make all your problems disappear.
Even for kids, it’s softball or football, baseball or basketball, gymnastics and cheer. So many things scheduled for them that they don’t have enough to find out about themselves.
The data on suicide among children shows us that we are going the wrong way.
Sitting here, right now, with few distractions, and even less responsibilities on my soul today, I was just able to see a duck come in for a graceful landing onto the lake.
Although it knows nothing of the aerodynamics of flight, nor the principles of gravity and hydrodynamics, the duck was able to execute a beautiful pinpoint landing, and settled into a calm relaxed posture, floating gently, seemingly undisturbed by all of its surroundings.
A duck, it seems, is far more connected to the universe than we appear to be.
And I think that’s what really this whole weekend is about for me. The chance to connect with myself, and see what’s really going on deep within my soul. A chance to slow down, and find meaning in the moments, rather than rushing headlong into a cacophony of choices each one ‘newer’ than the past.
A place that is remote enough to allow me to disconnect from the daily drama of the world, and realize that slower and smoother allows me time to find the meanings that make life ‘meaningful’.
The great psychiatrist Victor Frankl wrote a book called ‘Man’s Search for Meaning’, which explains how we can find meaning even in the worst of times, and how meaning gives us a pathway to walk in life that transforms our days from just existing, to really living a life that is satisfying and full.
I truly believe that the richness of life is not found in the balance of your bank account, but in the moments of meaning accumulated deep down in your soul.
So today, I implore you to find somewhere that helps you find a sense of connection and meaning with yourself, and begin to follow the whisperings of your soul that desire to guide you to where the true sense of happiness lives for you.
When you find that place, be it a lake house, a beach, a park or an ocean, spend more time there, and just listen to those whisperings.
May you find peace and happiness all your days, in whatever way you can.
— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings