In the trials of life that come, and go, and come back
around again, we often find ourselves. By that, I mean, our true selves, the
part of us that has learned to hold the line, or that part of us that still,
instinctively, inevitably, flees. You
are in that moment, the real you, and that’s where you will find out how much
you've grown, and yes, how far you still have to go.
I used to find such moments shameful because, to be honest,
fleeing, or even doing the wrong thing, was just plain easier. “Life is hard
enough”, I used to tell myself, “Without shouldering a single ounce more than I
have to.” Screw that. Count me out. Get me to the next concert, or
bar, and the next beer. I liked all that “eat, drink and be merry” stuff that
Solomon talked about in the Bible. For
that? You could count me in.
But I was, of course, doing selective reading.
You don’t have to be a spiritual person to appreciate that
tough times happen. Maybe, no matter how hard you try, you can’t get past being
single. You keep meeting someone, who may be the right one, who ends up
being the last one, while you’re left waiting for the next one. Or your job
blindsides you by passing you up for a promotion. Or worse. Today I was on LinkedIN and
saw a connection announcing her resignation as CEO of her company effective Feb
1st, due to Stage 4 breast cancer that has spread rapidly to her
bones and lungs. She's in her mid-30’s. Married. No children.
There’s something to be observed in all of these challenges.
They’re all pains of a different kind, but they each tell us that we only
have so much time to get things right, to figure things out, as best we can, in
the time that we have left. You can say that we will never “figure things out”, and
if you add the word “entirely” then I would agree. But we should be trying. If
were not, we're simply existing. The billions of cells that have been brought
together to make us each a sentient being would then be an alchemy of wasted
effort, by a God who would love us nonetheless, but still, I
imagine, be left scratching his head at the end of our days saying, “Really?
All those years and it never became about more than just pleasure and a paycheck?”
The trials will come. We must practice facing them, not fleeing
or avoiding them, and learn from them. That’s how we will grow. We must find
hand holds of a firmer grip, not on the grand scale of the universe around us but
of the universe within. Because life isn’t just all about the trials; it’s
about all the moments amidst and in between them. That’s where the real you
will always be found.
