Why I Came Back…
On the eve of the release of my new book, Zen Master Next Door, I found myself a tad nostalgic. I read, once again, chapter one of my first book, YOURS, AIDEN, and felt compelled to share an excerpt…
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Why I came back to Saint Augustine for that particular reunion was a mystery to me. Perhaps I returned to complete unfinished business or to rekindle old relationships. Perhaps it was neither. Maybe I came in part, to honor my journey. Twenty-five years ago I came here my senior year and while moving toward my goal I found more-much more. At the time I did not want any more than what lay in clear vision, but I am now grateful I learned as my senses became replete. What I thought was absolute was not. What I thought was corrupt was good. I overlooked what astonishes me now. I was not ready for what was a metamorphosis in my life. But what I was not ready for conceived new ways. Where I had been, in a way, and where I wanted to go, did not matter. Growth happened, as always, in my present. The journey was always in the now. I could not be told this, although some tried. Sometimes I asked questions of others and I heard them but did not listen. Placing a terrible burden on them, I so desperately wanted direction.
Years ago I fought my inward travel with each step. I kept looking outward and beyond. Like a recurring dream I saw myself running a race, but the race would not end although I kept my eye on the finish line. I sensed I was running the race only by myself and against no one but myself. The race was but a blur but getting to the finish line, my subconscious mind determined, was meaningless. Clearly, crossing the finish line was for naught. The blur of the race was everything.
In time I found what lied beyond the day, any day, only became smaller as my past became enormous. The present remained the only real time. The past was only a trace of who I was to become. Now my past was the taste of bitter and sweet. Without one, however, I could not savor the other.
Why three tiny bird eggs made an indelible imprint on my mind earlier that day I may never know. An illusion, perhaps, of simplicity but the reality of life’s complexities rattled my senses. But the change, the transformation and the need I had for so much more than what was simply before me pulsated in my mind. Was my life as fragile as those eggs? Lives change without warning. What really mattered? Those capsules of life swarmed with energy and delicately clung to a tree. This interlude was merely momentary. My life’s experiences and thoughts swirled aimlessly in me but, simultaneously, cleaved to my soul. The occasion of my life, as well, was but momentary.
Preoccupied that night and the entire weekend, I mulled over my life. I thought of that year and resolved that there was something remarkable to everything, even the transitory life affixed to the wispiest vein of nature.
This entry was posted on Tuesday, March 24th, 2009 at 8:52 pm.