The Real Cost
My daughter emailed me this poem she wrote for her high school English class assignment. It set off a torrent of emotion within me. Here it is:
we used to have more fun
playing games and laughing
and feeling freer to be ourselves
having not a care about what the world thought of us
we would do as we pleased and feel happy with the simple things in life.
now we are too busy for something as simple as fun
or feeling free
because we are always trying to prove to the world
that we can be exactly what they want us to be:
the only thing we are not.
Is This Progress?
In no particular order, these are my corresponding thoughts as antidotes to this central mortal wound that is the schism of our times:
1. We have nothing to prove.
2. The most satisfying life is a simple life that comes from being present.
3. We have the power to free ourselves.
4. We can only free ourselves by becoming authentic from a place of integrity and acceptance.
5. When we lose the power to laugh in our lives - experience joy and delight - we've lost ourselves.
How long will we accept living at the cost of denying ourselves? We have only to look at the state of the world to see the terrible, tragic cost we pay when we let go of the above five truths.
Of course the world seduces us to just that with a delusional promise that when we do the opposite, we will survive and be protected. Instead we experience "dis-ease", with all its resultant pain.
Give back to Yourself . . .
Your power to choose.
Come "Of Age" . . .
And really, truly Grow Up.
Can we create an integrated story of personal power and transformation beyond Peter Pan? In my fantasy version, we grow UP - evolving to be and unabashedly show ourselves in the world as who we are and what we are, taking a stand for ourselves and all others whose paths we cross, as we are moved to respond.
Notice the break-down ot this word associated with becoming an adult. No proving here, no spiritual schism. Just the ability to respond.
That is my preholiday-wish for you as we move to wrap up this pivotal year that begs for widespread change . . . for the better. It's all really, really up to us.
Children know - couldn't be plainer - was the central thought of my "torrent of emotion" when I read her poem.
I think we do, too.