How many are consumed with rediscovering a former, lighter self? Many pedestalize the whimsy of youth, long disillusioned by a labyrinthine network of their own burdens and responsibilities. How long have I been so consumed? Lightheartedness became my White Whale. I felt wronged by its flight from my life, devastated in its wake. And so began my obsession with recapturing it. I pursued it with a vengeance, only to find that it grew ever more elusive, always outpacing my ascending frenzy.
I scoured my surroundings for peace, chasing after it tirelessly. But even the greatest endurance must eventually fail, and the aftermath of my existential marathons was abject despair. I was poisoned by hatred and futility's frustration. Bitterness corrupted my very soul, birthing envy and a scornful, remorseless cynicism which blackened my world. Clinging frantically to self pity, I jealously watched others rejoicing in the soul's sunlight, furious that I remained soaked and shivering in a ceaseless spiritual squall.
But moments ago, as I sat in meditation while awaiting my flight from Logan Airport, I couldn't help but think that all I so fervently sought after had been dwelling always within me. I could roam the world, frequenting grand forests and lush gardens and doubtless I would find some measure of occasional peace, but it would be fleeting if the deep inward peace remained undiscovered. For I just found a peace and vitality sitting quietly amidst throngs of busybodies that easily rivaled my most placid times spent in solitude. I felt as though there was a fathomless well of life deep within me, overflowing with beauty and truth, inexhaustibly surging into my being. Whatever I could seek in life, however magnificent or extraordinary, truly it is always and already accessible wherever I may be, whether in a crowded subway car or in a sacred Tibetan monastery. I need only to sit long enough for the self-inflicted curse of busyness to abate. Sooner or later, it always does, and the patient of heart are then rewarded with a deeply genuine fulfillment. It's like remembering some foundational Truth and being embraced by it's warm familiarity after years of homeless wandering.
So I encourage you to ask yourself if there may be something you've forgotten. Are there things about you that you loved but have thought long lost? It's easy to become confused and disoriented amidst the chaos that passes for life around here, it's tragically common to lose yourself entirely. But take heart! and don't squander too much time in mourning, for nothing worth a damn is ever lost not to be found again, and thus cherished all the more for its supposed absence. All of the noise in the world, all the anxiety-inducing multitasking, all the shiny distractions and flashy gadgets designed to lengthen our befuddlement stand no chance against the Garden within. That's the thing about the Garden, and indeed the mark of all True Life. It's growing. It's alive and always moving toward the Source of Light. You can hack it all down, cleaving all the nourishing shoots of the Conscience. You can build a vast city of emptiness upon this inner hallowed ground, filling it with meaningless statistics, tv shows, celebrity gossip and the myriad hollow ways in which we entertain ourselves, but it will only cause an unbearable tension, for it is all only a parody of True Life. So maybe it's time to take a wrecking ball to the cities of delusion. Be enthralled at how swiftly the Garden reclaims its ruins!
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