Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together – Vincent Van Gogh

Where is the rush to?

Sometimes in the midst of a crowd, as buses, cars and people rush by; I stop, albeit for a mere seconds and wonder, what am I doing here. Is this where I want to be? If I take a step out and get run over by one of these zooming vehicles, would this work that I am doing right now be the last thing I want to do? If I were lying in a hospital battling for life, would this work be of any importance to me. And the answer scares me, so I roughly push it away and jump back into the rush to get home, complete an article, reach a meeting.

ImageWhen I look around I see I am not alone. In these cities, we have perfected the art of staying busy. Time is money, and there is so much to be done. Not a minute to rest, go do things, lots of them, it helps you grow in your career, it helps you stay ahead of the Jones, and buy yourself all those wonderful things you desire. If you have one house, you need to start planning to buy the next. If you have one car, you need to think of the model you want next. If you had dinner at this restaurant, hey there is a new one on the other side of town, have you tried that yet? You went on a holiday close to home, have to tried an international one yet?

Yes, the goal posts keep moving, and they are very much external, things that you can take pictures of and post on Facebook and Pinterest. And then one day it all collapses, like a pack of cards. But didn’t you feel this pain before? Didn’t you find something wrong? Didn’t you hear the creak? Of course I did, we all do, only not loud enough. Only that we did not stop to take it in. Only that we did not believe its affects. We were rushing to that meeting, to that party, for that flight, for a dinner.

We are so busy we don’t have the time to listen to ourselves, we don’t have the time to talk to ourselves, to understand ourselves, to stop and say, “yes, complete that sentence”. “yes, lets talk now”. “yes, this is me time”. We are so used to relating to the external, the internal has become alien. We don’t know how to treat ourselves, what it means to be good to oneself, and by that I don’t mean, buying oneself jewelry or getting a pedicure.  If you really dwell on it, you will note, we are the most neglected person. We are the most lonely person. We are the most friendless person. We don’t know how to socialize with ourselves.

So what is it that this lonely, sad, neglected person takes out into the world? What is it that you share, but what you have. Without the mask please. Is it a wonder that society around us has shaped out the way it has? That we have shaped it the way it is?

How often do we go out for a long quite walk, how often do we sit down and meditate, how often do we just stay by ourselves for ourselves sake. Ah, don’t those things seem what older folks do? Perhaps they have gone full circle and after fighting themselves have now settled into a comfortable coexistence. Do we also have to advance in age before we get there? Before we learn about ourselves and accept ourselves the way we are. No fluff, no make-up, now external recognition’s and degrees, just us, just the skin, the flesh, staring back, the real me, without the fancy veneer that we have worked so hard to build about ourselves.

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