There arrives a time in all lives when the chosen path looks bleak. Societal expectation seems to require sacrifice of liberties for "adulthood." Time is no longer our own, money is not our own and we are obliged to do an infinite number of things for other people: required activities like—payments, mortgages, civic duties, and expectations to uphold to spouses, children, and employers. If day-to-day duty is not enough, we are tasked with predicting the future, making investments, reconciling mistakes, and living out consequences. These past-present-future requirements amass a spinning reel of life. Walls go up in the mind as the movie plays with minimal creative opportunity for altering its plot. Changing direction feels enormously challenging and pumping frantically at the brakes and pounding furiously on the walls is the common course of action. What once was a house grows dark like a tomb. Vehicles initially started to transport to a destination have turned out to be a hearse. And it feels lonely and chaotic and dark. Some will sit passively in their tomb and wait. Others will take drastic measures to regain liberty. And in the name of freedom there is murder, suicide, unemployment, drug abuse, avoidance, oppression, violence, lying, cheating, torn families, anxiety, and jealousy. And in all this bondage and chaos blamed on perceptions of duty, is this idea of freedom. "If I could just get here or there, then I would be free and happy.” So, how do we get it? Without all the destructive actions mentioned up there ^. To obtain it, we need to know what it is. Because it’s more than just an “anywhere but here” or it will always be anywhere but here. It has to be somewhere. And what I believe (this is opinion inferred by statistics and colored by experience) people are looking for when they seek personal, mental, liberty, is that space where the walls come down. And those walls come down in the numbing sensation of euphoria. And so it's there we seek freedom. Euphoria: a feeling or state of intense excitement and happiness. This is what freedom tastes like to me. It tastes like an open country road with the windows down and the song “Ain’t No Grave” on full blast—wind in my face singing as loud as I can with a few Breakfast Club fist pumps at elevated moments. It feels like the turn of a wake board on a glassy lake at 7:30 am with a delicious spray turning golden in the sunrise. It tastes like a slider to induce a swinging strikeout for the last out of a game. It tastes like perfectly spoken words, followed by a perfectly landed kiss. It tastes like the first step out the door after the last exam . If none of these examples landed, think Titanic “I’m the king of the world”. When do you feel free? Remember it now. Do you feel it? The exhilaration growing in your chest. The unstoppable smile spreading across your face. The lightness in your brain. Do you feel the sensations in your fingertips and toes flooding you with heart-pounding desire to sprint a marathon, sing as loud as you can in joyful noise, and pump your fist in the air with wild excitement? Here is the question I want answered more than any other as I set down roots for the rest of my life. How do we make liberty last when we’ve traded in all our youthful pursuits for adult responsibilities and these euphoric moments start spreading themselves thin? And so far the best I can come up with is this answer: Don’t pursue euphoria. I've not found any mental freedom in pursuing whims of pleasure. Freedom may be felt in euphoria, but that is not a sustainable freedom. You can’t be high all the time. That high all the time feeling is my destination. One I arrive at by pilgrimage. It's not found by getting sidetracked, or by obsessing over something good like a lab rat and pushing the lever over and over hoping to stay high. Sustainable liberty in adulthood is a byproduct of staying course for a destination and recognizing my personal choice to live from the inside out until I get to my destination. And the destination is the most euphoric thing of all. That existential drive for intense and lasting pleasure, for sweet and eternal freedom, for the endless road and the endless song and the endless blast of never-ending joy—that is irrevocably linked to a source. And there is no separating it from Him. The only liberty I've found is surrender. Letting go of all my heaviness for a lighter yoke. If he walked out of the grave I’m walking too. So, dear reader, my encouragement for you today is to let the walls in your mind fall. Open to the revelation that your life is not a tomb, the door is always open. Choose today who you will serve. And as you journey towards an eternal destination be encouraged by the strength and lightness given to you. Uphold your daily responsibilities in noble pursuit of something greater. Find the freedom in difficult work. Embrace the positive feelings of euphoria, without demanding them or obsessing over them. Let them breathe. From strength to strength, in all desert, in all weakness, in all joy and sadness, pursue Him. It is your only true chance for sustainable Freedom. Your train is bound for glory. Next week I am going to look at some ways societal expectations negatively influence me, and how minimalism can help me regain the liberty I’ve lost to people-pleasing. The week after that I am going to look at the positive results of peer pressure. If you want stuff like this delivered to your inbox click here.
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The idea for this post has been ruminating for months now. It’s time to let these thoughts fly. This post is about mental minimalism. It is about letting go. In all choices there are closed doors. Roles require sacrifice. Love requires action. These unopened doors, sacrificed items, and untraveled paths form an entire world of the “unlived.” It’s tempting to stare at the unlived world with curiosity. Then curiosity starts morphing into bitterness or regret. My research on the “unlived” brought me into topics about identity, the shadow self and the false self. Topics well beyond my realm of knowledge and experience. Topics I should not dive into without proper certification. But when acknowledging things given up, it seems it is necessary to have a positive perspective of sacrifice for a quality adult human life. So, this is not advice as much as it is observation of the experience of other humans, quotation from actual qualified humans, and reflection on my own challenges. I read a tweet today from a local sports personality that is a perfect anecdote for this post. Stories like this one embody the humble, diligent love we idolize. But, as I venture into adulthood I find it easy to slip into “sacrificial love” as a duty or an obligation rather than a true desire. It feels forced; and the weight of responsibility steadily grows like a heavy burden and not the lighter yoke I'm promised. When I bear up my yoke and don’t receive adequate praise or immediate reward for my sacrifice I begin to stare longingly at the unlived and complain loudly that my martyrdom should be receiving more recognition. This pulls my intentions into question. Is my sacrifice sustainable? Is my sacrifice loving if it is for personal glory? Am I using my sacrifice to make people feel guilty or indebted? In Derek’s story I doubt his father talked about getting rid of his Corvettes and driving a minivan. If he did, Derek would not be sharing the story he would be feeling guilty that he ruined his father’s dreams. In the case of my own parents, I know they gave up a great many things to support nine children. But, they will tell you the strength they received to perform this came from their core belief they were fulfilling the purpose they were given. A purpose causing all the things flying by the window to be a little easier to wave at as the train heads for its destination. This is not easy to do. But ultimately, subjecting desires to the will is essential for pursuit of any goal because, as Stephen Covey says, “If you are an effective manager of yourself, your discipline comes from within. . . You are a disciple, a follower, of your own deep values and their source. And you have the will, the integrity, to subordinate your feelings, your impulses, your moods to those values.” That is a tall order. And I wouldn’t say I am an effective manager of myself. But in writing down my deeper values I can filter out when something is important and fits within an overarching purpose, and when it is fleeting. It makes it easier to know when the things I am letting go of are truly important, and when they are just a momentary pleasure. These deeper values play a key role in decision making, and in living contentedly with our choices. When I can assign my choice to a value I have, or a value I know is important, it makes the unlived a lighter yoke. It makes sacrificial love sweet and wholesome and genuine, rather than bitter and demanding. It makes goodness attractive. I can look fondly at what I gave up and smile knowing what I have is truly what I need. Dear reader, if you have arrived down here I want to encourage you to wave with a smile at the countryside and passing cities as you roll toward your destination. Your train is bound for glory. Now this idea of contentedness and moral duty get all sorts of complicated. Things can quickly turn into boundaries, walls, and limiting beliefs. I am going to finish out "Bound for Glory" next week with a post about independence. Click here if you’d like an email alert when it’s up. I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us ~ Paul the Apostle This week I needed a pep talk for practical growth steps and the reasons to take them. Quick attribution of credit—these are my personal conglomerate of daily activities for improvement derived from books like: “My Miracle Morning”, “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People”, “Buddha’s Brain”, “The Upward Spiral” and the Bible. Also, I desperately need to resume consistency with these habits. If you get nothing from this string of arguably trite PD commentary, that is awesome. I'm proud of you. Keep it up! But if you see me, ask how I’m doing with them. Accountability is good stuff. Affirmations: Christians call this “believing God’s promises” or “speaking truth over yourself”. In non-Christianese people call it self-empowerment or positive self-talk. It feels a little awkward to do, but repetition of an affirming phrase dulls the incessant need for affirmation from others. The desired result is fewer destructive and attention-seeking behaviors, increased confidence, and reduced self-pity (don’t take that second dart). And it really works. I am a child of God; I am a co-heir to the kingdom. Uniquely gifted to be a fruitful asset for my family. Reading: Reading is the only daily practice I’ve maintained over the last year and a half. If reading is a challenge, five minutes a day will still make a difference. Not five minutes of looking at words on a page. That’s like “listening” to someone talk while perusing social media. Read with the intention of looking up words that need to be defined. Read with the intention of re-reading things that deserve applause or tears. Really read. The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them. ~ Mark Twain Meditation: I had someone tell me once that meditation is a way to, “approach the throne room of God,” and I should close my eyes and visualize it. That is probably good advice for some people. But I tried and the throne room of God looked like the Lincoln Memorial. So, now I close my eyes and I fill my belly with air and exhale it out of my mouth. Yahweh, the I Am, is found in the Being. I focus on the sounds far off—the steady drone of moving cars and calls of birds. Then I focus on things close—whirring fans, the dryer, the hum of the refrigerator. This takes away the sounds in my head (my thoughts aren’t usually scrolling words or pictures I’ve got constant audio in there). Things start to quiet down. I shift to focusing on about 20 breaths. When I open my eyes things are sharper, words have more meaning, and it feels easier to be where I am. It seems natural to be still and know, to listen and hear, to see and believe. It’s a little better, for me anyway, than visualizing a statue of a president. Writing: Daily writing/reflection is not my go-to. When it is I’m more inspired and have fewer issues with deadlines. Allocating five minutes a day to writing is a mortgage on the present for future returns. All the unsorted things have time to sort themselves. Writing, even if it is not about the day or life, provides new perspective. It emphasizes creativity and awareness and improves memory. But those five minutes are elusive and unhabitual. So, reader, let’s sow a bit of time for this and be pleased with the harvest. Exercise: There is absolutely no point in touting the benefits of exercise. Everyone knows them. So, let’s change perceptions of exercise. It is fun. Go outside. Run around. Lift heavy things, hike, bike, paddle, swim, walk, play pickle ball and spike ball, chase a Frisbee, throw a football, kick a soccer ball, do the things you did when you were a kid. Enjoy the sweat that comes from movement. Make time for activity. And if all else fails, spend five minutes doing pushups or crunches or yoga in the morning or before bed. I’m looking at you, mirror. It’s time. Pray: How to pray:
Dear reader, if you have arrived at this point, my encouragement to us is to go and live well. Being where you are is the best way to get where you are going.
I hear and feel her steady breath inhaling the moment. She sleeps soundly while I dream dreams of our future. The tremor from a tiny flame dances light across the ceiling and soft music serenades my thoughts, drawing them out to be shared. She is close. There are moments where the soul is over-full and exceeds the ability to feel, fathom and express. Tingling fingers and swelling heart grant these moments an unknowing capacity to hold in beauty, and as it expands like breath it molds me into something bigger and better. There is a close, nearly fearful, sense of vulnerability. The soul grows deep like roots when it rains and when it shines and when it drinks in the rebirth of the soils composition. If, in those moments, I stop to listen intently—I hear the belligerent noise of progress. But it is an outdoor noise. And as I continue to listen I hear things more real and present. Slowly the endless droning fades as I draw even nearer the moment and in its place is a crisp sound of pleasantness and immeasurable joy. I drink in these minutes. Wholly submerging in them with gratitude for their coming. Like a comforting song I replay them often. And when the song is not in my ears it is in my mouth singing fragments of lyrics throughout the day. Because these moments are the richness of life on earth and the whispers of things to come. They tell me quietly of things I'll always desire in places I have not -and cannot- ever travel. They ease the sharp desire to be removed from treachery and tumult and see heaven now. They dull the pain of unanswered questions. This is a pursuit of happiness. Not in forceful, fleeting measure, but in the quiet of peace worked for yet still undeserved. This is seeking the kingdom of heaven on earth and embracing light and warmth and salt when it arrives. This is sowing effort and humility and grace and celebrating the harvest. Dear Reader, It is not all hard work and glaring weakness. There is sweetness in life that must be held and loved. It's easy when seeking improvement to focus on the work and the effort and the failure. But, that starts to generate a negativity bias. Critical reflection must be balanced with gratitude. Presence of mind and patience must be combined with the courage required to absorb a beautiful moment. Say thank you and let it be.
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I'm a Hoosier. I like the outdoors. Taxes are my job. I write for a living. This Blog
Writing my way to an adult life of minimalism, sustainability, and joy rooted in Truth. I'm learning, unlearning, and relearning.
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