It is often as maddeningly frustrating to carry on with everyday activities as it can be to gather the courage to begin them. Amidst the frustration of finding one’s purpose in the universe, an existential cry determinedly taunts and tortures until its message becomes irritatingly profound: “Why?” Why carry on? Why continue to do this thing? This thing which very well may not be as vital or essential to its successor, the importance of which has not yet been determined within itself, as it seems. And while the vitality of the successor remains in question, why not bring up that of its successor? It is in this fashion that the world begins to unravel before one’s eyes. A series of infinite “Why’s” is met with an extensive sigh of defeat.
I have found myself pausing lately. Pausing to ask myself about where I am, where I am heading and why. I find that I lack focus and determination in pursuing much of anything. I wonder where this sudden lack of enthusiasm is stemming from and what it means. I wonder if I am wrong in searching for the root of my lack of interest, for perhaps it is best to regress into my past and determine what it was that previously intrigued and inspired me to be confident within myself and what I chose to pursue. I don’t think I’m quite ready to answer any of the difficult questions I have found myself asking lately. In fact, I find that as the nature of my questions becomes more and more complex and interesting, the answers to them seem that much further away.
Fortunately, this subdued sigh is not as futile as the circumstances under which it was exhaled into existence. No, this sigh is an indication that one has been all too consumed by the alleged fruitlessness of foolish worldly matters to keep what is truly significant in sight. In a day and age where such forewarnings are so sparse and easily overlooked, such an indication must be treasured and applauded for its assistance in ushering one into a more tranquil state.
It is at this point that one must stop and cease to look left and right in their usual frenzy of worry, insecurity, and doubtfulness. Instead, one must look up and admire the beautiful, radiant sky. One must make an attempt to absorb its firm royalty and unwavering devotion to remain tall and proud. Although it grows dark and solemn in the evening, it remains a thing of beauty and elegance. Although it occasionally sheds tears, it finds the will to stop and smile bright and happily once again.
Or better still, one must look down. Yes, one must not forget to look down and admire the wildflowers on their pursuit to conquer their destiny. For what lies ahead, whatever it may be, can wait. But these flowers, humbly blending into the ground on which they resolutely grow, require one’s attention for the same reason one did not initially give it to them: they did not ask for it.
And so I have resolved to stop asking questions, at least for a while. I have decided to stop trying to figure out why I currently lack inspiration and where the inspiration that I once possessed has gone. Instead, I have decided to soak in the present. I do not want to be as concerned with yesterday or tomorrow as I am, and should be, with today. I want to get to know myself, not as I was or will be, but as I am.
Walking through this forest, breathing in the exquisitely sweet scent of these delightful flowers and discerning their every physical detail, I want to be present in this moment to the best of my ability. As I exhale, I find that my daily sigh of uncertainty has transformed into one of contentment.