There is a process to living that persists whether I want it to or not. This process doesn’t care if I enjoy it or have patience with it. The process of living will commence with or without my approval.
Similar to me moving chopped wood from one area of the yard to another. I gather a load and then unload. Repeat.
This process of moving wood from one area to another reminds me of living – the day in and day out experiences and circumstances we come in contact with.
There is never a fast-forward button to push. There’s no way to jump to the end of an event and get the result, especially a guaranteed result of what’s wanted.
There is a process and nothing less.
I used to hate the process. Begrudged it’s existence, wished for the end, because then I would know if I got what I wanted or not. Then I would know if I was happy with life or against it.
All I encountered was my own dissatisfaction and discontent. I couldn’t relax. I couldn’t enjoy what was about me. I was so caught up in future-living that I wound up not living today. I had little enjoyment or appreciation for my life or for what I was doing.
The process of living requires daily action. A committed response to living. Just like me moving one piece of wood at a time.
And with the repetition of moving toward the ultimate goal, there are moments of breath and experience.
Therein lies what I seek. That’s when I get to experience love and joy, laughter and peace, when I acknowledge and embrace life’s offerings.
That’s when I’m living.
Weathered Well 