Little Clay Pots

          I've been working on writing something about being comfortable for over two weeks now.  I say 'working on' but that means I've just been filling my time with other things that have kept my head in the clouds and away from my notebook.  So maybe 'working on' is the wrong term but I'm certainly working on it now.

          Maybe I couldn't bring myself to finish what I started because I didn't know how; because I used the word 'comfortable' so much and I wanted to go back and figure out how to change that (I didn't).  The reason that best fits is I've been too comfortable– too comfortable settling into a daily routine (a routine that hasn't involved writing); too comfortable house-sitting for a few days, enjoying the silence that replaced the constant noise of living with five other people; too comfortable enjoying the company of a friend who came home to visit for a few weeks who also enjoys donuts and the great outdoors as much as I do; perhaps too comfortable being freshly unemployed with no sign of having a job for the rest of 2016.  Yes, life has been damn good lately which might be the cause of this lack of motivation to write about things I want to say.  There isn't much too say when life is just... so damn good.

          But this can't last, nothing does.  My friend is leaving, there's some crappy weather heading my way that is about to throw off my daily routine, and I'm back home living with five other people instead of sitting in solitide by myself (I still love you, Mom, Dad, Meg, Ava, and Gunnar!).  So here I am, like a plant pulled from a flower pot, readjusting, getting ready to leave home in about a month, with newfound motivation to write something about this whole experience we all acknowledge as 'living' however we choose to define it.

          A plant can flourish just fine in a pot on a windowsill.  There's enough dirt and sunshine without the unpredictable outdoor elements.  But all potted plants reach an end to their growth.  There's only so much soil before the plant becomes root-bound and slowly cuts itself off from the dirt where all the good stuff is.  The death of the potted plant is inevitable without the promise of rebirth in the same soil.  Transplanting into a garden outdoors can be risky business.  Those roots are susceptible to damage and need extra care over the first week or so of their new home.  But the life of that plant merges with a whole new environment.  The roots will grow strong with infinite space to meander through ensuring, at least, a perennial return.  Perhaps the biggest difference between the potted plant and the garden plant is the potted requires the daily care of the watering can, maybe even the right mix of nutrients while the transplanted specimen, once established, can thrive off the outdoor elements with little to no help from the gardener and become one with the environment.

          I was planning on including the original text I had been 'working on' somewhere around here but I don't want to steer anyone away from this page with an unnecessarily long rambling of things I want to say.  I can certainly summarize my other words for you in case my little flower pot metaphor didn't do the trick for you:

          Comfort means something different to every person.  Hot or cold, hard or soft.  It's good to be comfortable with who we are, what we do, where we live.  But when we develope the idea that comfort means always being entertained and the senses stimulated, comfort tends to become a carrot on a string mere feet in front of us while we're stuck on a treadmill.  The more we have, the more we need and we always need the newest and biggest versions: cars, phones, TVs, homes.  We can never fully see how comfortable be can be with less until we understand the satisfaction of things never lasts.  We all suffocate ourselves in our own little flower pots because we're safe and change is tough.  We think a good clay pot is everything but, less is more, let those roots grow into the dirt.

Perfection

          Sometimes it seems like things happen at the exact moment they should, like the events in our lives are actually carefully orchestrated instead of randomly occurring.  A close friend recently introduced me to the idea of EWOP, "Everything is Working Out Perfectly".  This friend of mine was travelling around on the other side of the world, going wherever the wind took him when he met a guy who was trying to spread the good word of EWOP.

          The idea behind this perspective is quite simple: the way everything has happened is perfect and the way everything is happening is perfect.  However, if something strikes you as imperfect you should feel compelled to change it.  Otherwise, if there is nothing you can do for the situation, accept it as perfection.  But, especially do not sit and complain about it because negative words only create negative energy which does nothing but spread negativity.

          "Everything is Working Out Perfectly" is just another way of saying "everything happens for a reason".  While the reason may not be immediately apparent there is always time to see things from another perspective to understand what life has thrown at you.  The way life unfolds doesn't always happen the way we hoped it would but, nothing in life is guaranteed, a fact that we should try to be more mindful of.  When we take a step back from the situation we might even see how a detour on the path we're on actually leads to the same destination even if the detour seems to be long and winding in the opposite direction.

          In this life there are no isolated incidences.  Each moment is shaped by the previous moment and will define the shape of the next one.  We should do our best to be in each moment to the fullest to find insight for how to proceed to the next.  If we are caught up in the past or are focused on the moment too far ahead we will miss whatever is happening in front of us right now.

          I've been doing my best to acknowledge at all times that everything is working out perfectly.  Trusting in this allows me to rest in the now and not worry about how things could be different or what will happen if this doesn't take place at the "right" time.  Anything that defies our expectations is just a detour on the road of life, the road which brings us to no destination, just a new beginning.  In this realization we see it's all about the journey, there is no end to hurry towards.  With this vision, we can see everything happens at the right time.

Stuff

                  "That's the whole

          meaning of life: trying to find

               a place for your stuff."

                               -George Carlin

          Someone very smart once said, "Life's a garden, dig it!"  I've always considered myself a happy gardener and always enjoyed the fruits of my labor.  It's funny though, once I started to think seriously about my trek from Massachusetts to California I got the feeling I was laying down a new bed of soil, out of which has already sprouted the first signs of a simpler and happier life.

          In order for this trip to be possible I knew a lot would have to change.  Just over a month ago I had a condo full of stuff.  The usual stuff, nothing too crazy.  It didn't seem like that much until I had to decide what I would keep and what I would give away before moving back home with my family.

          To live out of a backpack for six to eight months requires a bit of mindfulness of what is actually essential to survival.  When you know you're the one who has to carry your entire home on your back you start to see how every ounce counts and how easy it is to tell necessities from luxuries.  I never had to look at stuff this way with my condo.  All I ever had was space for more.  I had a closet overflowing with clothes, a bed, about 100 books, a kitchen filled with cups, plates, coffee mugs, pots, pans, and a crockpot I never even used; not to mention nearly 500 records and a heavy duty shelf to store them all.  I never saw how cumbersome this all was until it had to be dealt with.

          As a quick fix to this excessive stuff situation I gave most of it away to friends and family and nearby donation centers.  It's nice to know the books and records that gave me so much joy have been given new lives in someone else's home, and all the groovy clothes I collected from second-hand stores are probably back on the racks now from where I first bought them.

          It felt great to cut out the extra clutter, to "weed out" the garden, so to speak.  However, when the day came to move back home with my rents I was surprised to see how many boxes of stuff I still had (not as surprised as my parents).  I mean, I couldn't get rid of all my records and books, and I still need at least one funny coffee mug and some of my clothes, and of course I need some of the junk that gets collected over the years that we don't know why we saved it but can't seem to get rid of it, either.

          I guess I still have some weeds in my garden but, even the occassional dandelion is pleasing to the eye.  What can you do?  Until I come back from my trip, all this extra stuff will sit in boxes in my parents basement.  Maybe by then I'll be able to find the proper place for it all and give my life meaning as Mr. Carlin suggests!

Getting There

          I don't claim to know a lot about this situation we're in called, "Life".  I'm figuring it out as I go along just like everybody else.  I'm 25, more than halfway to 26.  I've been working, even making a living (I have a bank account and a place to live to prove it).  But, like a lot of people I've met I wish I was doing more with this "Life".

          It's easy to see the patterns we all fall into if we take a step back from time to time.  However, it's a much more difficult task to stray away from the paths we make.  After a few years heading in the same direction I started to wonder where I was actually going and if the path I was on would take me there– or if it was taking me anywhere at all.

          Comparing your life to another person's is not the most reliable way to figure out your own direction to head in but, sometimes it's the only way to gain a new perspective of where you are.  There've been times when I've felt like other people were moving to a vastly different rhythm than me and nothing I did outside of my job gave me the sense of freedom I saw in others' lives.  Although this may have been an illusion, a classic case of the grass being greener but, this urged me to step off my path and make an attempt at breaking the pattern.

          With all the different perspectives we can have in the world any idea or personal pursuit can seem crazy.  As long as we're not doing harm to anyone or ourselves in our own journeys, why shouldn't we go for what feels right?  With the right state of mind anything is possible– at least I'm crazy enough to believe that.

          So why not walk from Massachusetts to California?  It seems to me we're all just killing time in our own creative ways, looking for the adventure of a lifetime.  When I tell people this idea of mine, I can tell they are seeing it as one long walk from start to finish.  However this endeavor is not unlike any other long-term goal or project.  Anything we set out to accomplish is done one step at a time, there are no exceptions.  We can certainly use some foresight to overcome the inevitable obstacles we will face but, at the same time we cannot cross a bridge before we get to it.  As far as long-term life adventures go, is it much more outrageous to uproot your life, pack the bare necessities on your back and head out West than it is to plant yourself in one spot in order to grow and nurture a family for the rest of this life?  I guess you see where I stand.