Friday, June 26, 2009

What If

It’s my first blog, and I’m nervous. Like so many firsts, there’s the unknown, insecurities, uncertainties. What if I’m no good. What if I have nothing to say. What if no one in the entire world wants to read it, ever, except my sister, of course, who thinks I’m positively genius? The litany of what ifs. Popping into my mind, and then running, nonstop and in stereophonic, like the chorus of "It’s a Small World." It strikes me that what ifs—mine anyway—come in one variety: doomsday. My ruminations don’t run to the sunny: what if I wake up one morning deliriously happy. What if something wonderful happens today or tomorrow or the next day. What if all my dreams come true. What if there is nothing to worry about, and I am actually okay, maybe even good, or perhaps, just perhaps, dare I even think it—fantastic?

I’ve spent the last twenty years seeking – searching for that one fatal flaw that is ruining everything, that one special thing that will fix it, the single path that will cure me once and for all. Hunting for some kind of illusive perfectionism. This week I had an epiphany. What if… ah, what if there is nothing in fact wrong. What if there is nothing to fix, cure, heal, analyze, alleviate, amputate, redo, rebirth, or re-create? What if, ala Bridget Jones, I am good, wonderful, perfect, dare I say it, loveable, just as I am?

It’s big. And here’s an even bigger one… what if, and I mean really, what if not just me, but everything, every single thing was okay and good, perfect even, just as it is? Think about it. It’s profoundly profound. And begs the question: What might have to be given up to be with ourselves and the world in this way? And the greater question, what might be gained?

What if it weren’t only possibly, but simple, requiring merely a new kind of seeing that grows from a tiny, subtle shift in focus. What if goodness was merely, and exquisitely, in the single little bird singing its heart out right now outside my bedroom window. What if perfection is in the way the wind ruffles gracefully through trees, or joy the early morning sun pouring itself through my window, splashing its light like a painting across my wall, announcing itself… here, see me! I am life itself, when was the last time you saw and appreciated my perfection. When was the last time you truly took me in, felt my warmth deep inside you, allowed me to burn away all those yucky, negative, painful what ifs from the past that have frozen you in place.

A simple shift of focus. What if it truly could change everything?

I told a friend that I was starting a blog. Great, he said, I’ll read it. Not yet, I replied. I’m still working on it. Working on it? He shot back. Are you kidding? Post it! Hell, you can edit it later, anytime.

Revolutionary. Especially for someone like me, who oftentimes edits any and all semblance of life out of my writings. Revolutionary, and yet so profoundly to the point: post it, just as it is. So here it is, my first Musings from the Moment blog. It comes from the heart; from the years of seeking; the exploration, excavation, examination, the search for what is real, and meaningful, what is true, and pairs with the great yearning I have had to express myself using the beauty of language. It grows and manifests now from two particular seeds; one, in answer to what I see as the growing superficiality of our culture, and the other, as a place to record and perhaps allow meaning to sprout and grow from the really big life transitions I have been through this year. More, I’m sure, on those later.

In the meantime, 66 days until Molokai… I still can't quite believe it. It's out there in the land of suspended reality: am I really going to spend three months all alone on a tiny little island with a population of 7,000? It seems so. The plane reservations are made, the condo rented, and my notice of resignation handed over to my employer.

And what if, just WHAT IF it turns out to be the most amazing fantastic unbelievable experience I have ever had...? Hmm.... Stay tuned.

Aloha for now