A writer tries to make sense of life. Actually, any artist/ creative being tries to make sense of life....any human tries to make sense of life. Writers have a more recognizable tool with the written word. It recently occurred to me, there is no making sense of life. Life both doesn't make sense and makes as much sense as we allow it to.
When stripped of all of the shoulds, shouldn't, this or that, him or her, them or they...you realize that life is fairly simple. Void of these expectations, we come to understand that our efforts to make life something else have actually clogged its natural existence. To attempt to make sense of life is to label it. And where labels are concerned the organic process of evolution dissolves.
I had to go through a great deal of pain before I came to understand this. It was akin to dying inside, once you lose everything, you realize you've lost nothing. And in this nothingness, I am able to awaken. We are all able to awaken.
Toni Morrison did an interview with Oprah a few years back where she said the most simple, yet true statement. In her calm, ethereal way, she said, "Life is beautiful. We make it hard." The hairs on my arms stand-up even as I type this. It's so true and so tempting. I reflect on the moments I've made my life difficult through fighting to hold on, or denying my true self, and I see exactly how unnecessary it all was. Yet, I know that had I not fought or struggled, I wouldn't be able to sit here tonight and write this (as I await a huge pot of macaroni and cheese to bake.)
I have a great life. Our lives are great when we accept the present moment without adding any thoughts of yesterday or tomorrow. Ultimately, the present moment is all there is. Deep breaths, walking in nature or watching a child in delight are wonderful reminders.
I'm wishing you loads of peace beyond understanding.