Where We Come From

A confluence of events related to my family has put me in a very specific state-of-mind, and I've been distracted all weekend with thoughts about identity, about how we become who we are, how we are shaped by where we come from and what we don't know and what we fear and what we love. What happens to us with age, emotionally and physically, how we do or don't get away from where we come from and what that means for the people we become and the people we create and the people we love.

"We are what we think. With our thoughts, we make the world," so sayeth The Buddha, and it's hard to argue with that. Train your thoughts to make your world, and the world will be yours. But for most of us, as I think the Buddha also points out, that's really really fucking difficult to do. Some people are closer to it than others, either by conditioning or natural temper, and they exude a kind of strength and steadiness that draws others to them and radiates security and confidence. My father is like that, he knows and I think has always known intuitively how to control his mind and keep his light shining through all manner of pain and trauma, and I am inspired and awed by his example, especially now as he struggles more than ever with physical limitations but refuses to lose his will and optimism.

So I try to follow his example of stillness and strength, as best I can, and even though I face nowhere near the adversity he's had to battle, I've had nowhere near his success in keeping the demons at bay. But that's my story, often told, and it's not my story that's been running through my head this weekend, it's somebody else's. The details aren't important or appropriate to share, but the thoughts have led me to a few different conclusions.

First, EVERYTHING MATTERS. Everything we do, every day, all day, is enormously important, ripples through the universe in ways we can't possibly understand when we're in the moment. I have to remind myself to trust that, even when it feels like the opposite is true, to take myself and my actions seriously, and to therefore let my principles guide my thoughts and behavior. And for me, that means, very simply, to always act from love. That's it. Let love guide and instruct my every action, all day long. And that's very hard to do, for me. My enemy in this pursuit is not so much anger or hatred, though I have those impulses and though those things are certainly the opponents of love, but for me it's much more fear, laziness and selfishness, which are also the opponents of love. When I think about my footprint in this universe, I realize that the harm I have done has rarely come from malice or greed or hatred, but rather from from *not* acting on something when I should have. And the reasons I didn't, always, are rooted in fear and then manifested in either or both selfishness or laziness. And that's just as bad, in many cases, as actively seeking to do harm. You're either part of the problem or you're part of the solution. Silence is consent.

The second realization I think I've come to (I don't know if you can call these things realizations, really--they're not new thoughts to me, but I'm feeling them in a way and with a clarity I haven't before) is that nobody ever really sees the whole board, nobody can ever really know what's in somebody else's heart, that it's completely impossible to see the world as it really is because the world is constantly shifting and moving under our feet, it's completely impossible to truly anticipate and understand and correct and console and guide outcomes and to really believe otherwise is a fool's errand, is monumentally arrogant and short-sighted, is probably something akin to unpardonable hubris and stupidity, and is something I've been guilty of pretty much my whole life. In the larger scheme of things, I know absolutely nothing. Not a fucking thing. Which makes the first point even more important, in my reckoning. If I can surrender the illusion of control, it might become possible to play my part in the universe conscientiously and with love and meaning. Everything matters because everything is part of everything else, and I can chart patterns and analyze results and learn from mistakes, but I'll never really know the way it all fits together, I'll never outsmart the universe. The best I can do, in the day that I'm in, is to act with kindness and love, to give off the kind of energy I want to get back.

And in that way I help create the place my children will come from, which is my greatest responsibility, my greatest weight, my greatest joy, my greatest challenge. Be who you are, my lovely boys. Be who you are.