From the Inside Out

There is a line in a kids book that reads something on the order of- everything we feel is on the inside and yet all we see is the outside.

The crickets are singing long before sunrise, the world is still, and a sudden sadness fills me. I’m not exactly sure where it has come from, and why I wake sad more often than happy. It could be the state of the world, the fact that the cricket will soon go quiet, the empty space where my daughter had stayed before moving into the city, the darkness before dawn, the feeling that everything in life is temporary. It's a wonder why some people believe we choose our feelings rather than them choosing us, and then I wonder why it is that we would ever choose ‘sad’.

We revel in this miracle of life, this rare and unique incarnation and the wonder of how we each of us show up on the planet- how distinctly different we look on the outside and yet perhaps the real miracle is how distinctly different we are on the inside. How personality, feelings, attitudes, character are as much a miracle as eyes, a beating heart and the 206 bones that hold us together. 

As I go through life, I often wonder why I don’t seem to have the same life-force energy as others do. How sitting in the backyard with a cup of tea is my equivalent to a world cruise, or a live concert, a beach party or dinner at the fanciest of restaurants. Social media is filled with folks doing, hearing, seeing, enjoying and I wonder often if I am missing something, why I’m not out there doing, hearing, seeing and enjoying. I seem to choose alone, quiet, peaceful.

There is a time in life that we come to accept who we really are on the inside – quiet or loud, peaceful or rambunctious, social or a loner. I don’t believe it is good to expend life trying to be something else. For some, joy is gathered by watching the golden light on a white pine tree, while others are sifting through menu choices or waiting for their favorite song at the Surf Lodge, and of course many make room for it all. I admire that energy, the taking all of life in-I worry that I am missing out, that I am just merely watching life rather than being a part of it.

I have spent a lot of time wishing I was the perfect party host, the one who baked the best batch of cookies, the one who followed a favorite band around the world, the one whose desk was filled with travel brochures, who filled every day with new experiences, the jokester, the life of the party- but I am not. I can only fit in a certain amount of ‘out in the world’ time – the rest is a retreat, a bedtime story, a silent landing on the surface of my own moon. People may see it as removed or distant or self-involved, but I see it as my safety net, my refuge, my inner call. It seems at times that there is no other choice.

In life there certainly is no race to the finish line. It is said that new experiences will slow life down, fill our Facebook feed, add to the richness of our conversations, build us from the outside in. Could it be that some lives just need one ingredient? I may need to revisit the recipe.