I had the chance to reconnect with a long-time friend this weekend. Someone with whom I always shared a deeper connection. We were able to see each other at a basic level and considered all our attributes as accoutrement, rather than self-defining. We had one of those strange and life-changing relationships that was also unassuming and casual. I don't know.
We knew each other in high school, which ended 17 years ago. Wait, 17? That can't be right. Yep, 17 years. After school, like the military kids we were, along with everyone else we knew, we moved out and moved on, and made little to no effort to continue relationships with those we left. It's how we were raised. You move in, form intense friendships quickly, then move on when it's time with no regrets. It's what you do when your family moves every 6 months to 2 years.
We both set out on our own paths of self-discovery. We tried different ways to find the answer to the same question we both asked each other every day we were friends. Who am I? Why am I here? What is my role in this universe?
Interestingly, we both were raised in families with very clear-cut answers for these types of questions. Dogma that was drilled into our every fiber from our first breath. For most people I think that suffices. When a worldview is presented to you so confidently and consistently, it is only natural to embrace it. I think it certainly makes your life easier. For some reason, though, the lessons of our parents did not fit us. The dogma just wasn't quite right. The way a too tight pair of pants will remind you of their tightness all day, the worldview was just uncomfortable. For both of us. Maybe that's what we bonded on.
Well, seeing this friend, and catching up on our journeys, reminded me of that pure zeal to answer my questions that carried when I left him. And that I let get muted by the consequences of my haphazard life choices. Not all bad choices or bad consequences, but haphazard and not focused on fulfilling my true purpose. You know, whatever that is. I've been busy.
As we reflected our lives, I realized that I do know how to find enlightenment. I know how to get to a place of clarity. A place where I recognize the pure love that is me and see it in everyone around me. The place where I see my spot in the universe, breathing the air the trees made, pushing down against the earth as it pushes me forward, and sharing in the joy of living along with the ferns, birds, slugs, and fir trees. Yes, the happiest moments of my life have been running. Especially running in the forest. I look at my journal from the last several years and find one recurrent entry: I feel so free when I run.
I put my ultra-maniac-running on hiatus for the last 6 months, to catch up on neglected family and work responsibilities. Instead of running monthly marathons or ultramarathons with halfsies thrown in for good measure, I've been slogging through aimless 4 milers. Maybe I have made a little progress, now that the day care teachers at least recognize me, I have read a few things that help me at work, and even submitted a paper. But I have been miserable. I have tried several antidepressants, vitamins (SO not my style!), a lot of alcohol, and even some lying around feeling sorry for myself. I am less creative, less energetic, and less motivated.
So. I want to go back to running like the longed-after lost lover that it is. I need it. Maybe I need to work on finding a better balance between seeking Nirvana in exhaustion on the trails and taking care of my family and career. Maybe 8 marathons is too many for one year when also trying to be a parent and a resident and make all organic homemade food, and make all thoughtful, meaningful homemade holiday gifts, and stay married, and stuff. Maybe we will continue to discuss "running" as a topic at marriage counseling sessions. Maybe I don't care. I think it is an important part of who I am, and my main pathway to finding clarity. And peace. And energy. And me.
So, dear high school friend, thank you. Thank you for helping me remember the zeal for the journey. For me, it takes a lot of running to quiet my mind enough to stay focused on my journey. That's what I need. It took a little reminiscing with a long-time soulmate to clarify that for me.
We knew each other in high school, which ended 17 years ago. Wait, 17? That can't be right. Yep, 17 years. After school, like the military kids we were, along with everyone else we knew, we moved out and moved on, and made little to no effort to continue relationships with those we left. It's how we were raised. You move in, form intense friendships quickly, then move on when it's time with no regrets. It's what you do when your family moves every 6 months to 2 years.
We both set out on our own paths of self-discovery. We tried different ways to find the answer to the same question we both asked each other every day we were friends. Who am I? Why am I here? What is my role in this universe?
Interestingly, we both were raised in families with very clear-cut answers for these types of questions. Dogma that was drilled into our every fiber from our first breath. For most people I think that suffices. When a worldview is presented to you so confidently and consistently, it is only natural to embrace it. I think it certainly makes your life easier. For some reason, though, the lessons of our parents did not fit us. The dogma just wasn't quite right. The way a too tight pair of pants will remind you of their tightness all day, the worldview was just uncomfortable. For both of us. Maybe that's what we bonded on.
Well, seeing this friend, and catching up on our journeys, reminded me of that pure zeal to answer my questions that carried when I left him. And that I let get muted by the consequences of my haphazard life choices. Not all bad choices or bad consequences, but haphazard and not focused on fulfilling my true purpose. You know, whatever that is. I've been busy.
As we reflected our lives, I realized that I do know how to find enlightenment. I know how to get to a place of clarity. A place where I recognize the pure love that is me and see it in everyone around me. The place where I see my spot in the universe, breathing the air the trees made, pushing down against the earth as it pushes me forward, and sharing in the joy of living along with the ferns, birds, slugs, and fir trees. Yes, the happiest moments of my life have been running. Especially running in the forest. I look at my journal from the last several years and find one recurrent entry: I feel so free when I run.
I put my ultra-maniac-running on hiatus for the last 6 months, to catch up on neglected family and work responsibilities. Instead of running monthly marathons or ultramarathons with halfsies thrown in for good measure, I've been slogging through aimless 4 milers. Maybe I have made a little progress, now that the day care teachers at least recognize me, I have read a few things that help me at work, and even submitted a paper. But I have been miserable. I have tried several antidepressants, vitamins (SO not my style!), a lot of alcohol, and even some lying around feeling sorry for myself. I am less creative, less energetic, and less motivated.
So. I want to go back to running like the longed-after lost lover that it is. I need it. Maybe I need to work on finding a better balance between seeking Nirvana in exhaustion on the trails and taking care of my family and career. Maybe 8 marathons is too many for one year when also trying to be a parent and a resident and make all organic homemade food, and make all thoughtful, meaningful homemade holiday gifts, and stay married, and stuff. Maybe we will continue to discuss "running" as a topic at marriage counseling sessions. Maybe I don't care. I think it is an important part of who I am, and my main pathway to finding clarity. And peace. And energy. And me.
So, dear high school friend, thank you. Thank you for helping me remember the zeal for the journey. For me, it takes a lot of running to quiet my mind enough to stay focused on my journey. That's what I need. It took a little reminiscing with a long-time soulmate to clarify that for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment