extraordinary

June 30 - I wonder if part of growing up is learning to understand what people are really saying, instead of just clinging to the words they speak?
She said not to expect too much; accept the mundane and know that's the way it's (life is) supposed to be. Don't live solely for those "extraordinary" moments that appear so infrequently as we grow older... instead, come to understand a cherish the normalcy of every day life. Then we will have peace.
I read that this morning before going to the gym. Seven AM came far too early after a deep sleep. And with her words, I was awakened... driving down the road to hit Starbucks before taking care of children. In my head, I composed this blog. I had to get my words out on "paper" so I could figure out what I really thought about this thing called life. That process we call "growing up".
Perhaps I can't believe all of what she said, because my heart is still that of a child. Somehow I have clung to this hope that there is still magic out there somewhere. A sort of magic we cannot live without--it is what makes the flowers bloom, and the thunder roll. I do understand that every day will not bring the earth shattering revelations, or smile inducing serendipity, that I long for. So I have come to learn in order to find this holistic joy (body, mind, soul), we have to be willing to see wonder in, and stand in awe of, something as simple as a blade of grass.
Perhaps "grown ups" fall into this sad state of stagnancy.... because on a subconscious level they choose it. What a tragedy to be in your twenties and have already come to a grinding halt. Or to be forty-three and need more, but be terrified to take it. Perhaps we can call this the reverse-Peter-Pan. Peter Pan never wanted to grow up--avoided it to the extent he fled the real world, taking others with him, to live the life of perpetual childhood. There are others, however, who have chosen to do the opposite. Assuming, with a few more decades under their belts, they have to be this way. Mature. Responsible. That homemakers wash the dishes and providers work ungodly hours to put bread on the table.
Our perception is our reality. And if we choose to view "adulthood" this way, it becomes this way. How then do we stir the waters of our "grown up" souls? When we need refreshment, where do we seek it? How do we go about affecting what can be affected, and then letting this world take its most positive effect on us?
This world, after all, was created for us so we could be a part of an extraordinary story.
This world, this life, is as big as we want it to be.
And maybe it is childish, but I refuse to believe the mundane is what we should expect. I cannot bring my heart to accept that one day, all that will be left is dishwashing and dog walking. There may be days when that is all we do. We may have days that seem like every other... same shit, different day. As if RBD's are manufactured somewhere, and we all have to have our share. The key (and this is my childish, hopeful, wild heart speaking here)... is to change the ordinary into the extraordinary. When your heart feels heavy, and seven years of normalcy have taken their toll, sit down in the dirt.
I think there were a few men, a long time ago, who felt this way.
As if they had to throw the net over the side of the boat one more time... surely, there was something more. This was their life, and there was some fulfillment and beauty in it. They were providing for their families, doing what they were supposed to do. And then one normal day....
They were called to fish for something new.
Later, He would ask one of them to walk on water.
This afternoon I cannot bring myself to expect an ordinary life.
After all, this humid last Saturday in June is a miracle unto itself.
"People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle." Thich Nhat Hanh