The way of things

I used to think that life was about finding answers. In every quote, dance performance, art piece, music composition, novel, relationship, etc., I would find something that resonated with me enough to give me a momentary illusion of resolution. Recently, I've realized that I seem to shift from one pristine, clear moment of acceptance of reality to the next, with gestational periods of unrest, uncertainty, frustration, and dissatisfaction in between.

Of late, I've begun to think that life is really all about asking the right questions. Like any other human being, I have those moments where I worry about my output. I occasionally wonder whether I do anything of significant value. Then I look around me and realize that everyone else feels and wonders the same things, regardless of how socially acceptable and stereotypically impressive their lives may seem to the omniscient observer.

Now that I've gotten to the place where I see inherent camaraderie and consistent patterns in the arc that is human existence, I've found opportunities to refocus my energies and hone my efforts to suit more specific goals. I guess its the main way I find meaning and continuity in what currently feels like a wonderfully diverse, yet draining life style.

In the wee hours of the morning after exhausting multifocal days like this one, poems like this are the most soothing remedies to a racing mind.

On Looking Up By Chance at the Constellations (Robert Frost)

You'll wait a long, long time for anything much
To happen in heaven beyond the floats of cloud
And the Northern Lights that run like tingling nerves.
The sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch,
Nor strike out fire from each other nor crash out loud.
The planets seem to interfere in their curves -
But nothing ever happens, no harm is done.
We may as well go patiently on with our life,
And look elsewhere than to stars and moon and sun
For the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane.
It is true the longest drought will end in rain,
The longest peace in China will end in strife.
Still it wouldn't reward the watcher to stay awake
In hopes of seeing the calm of heaven break
On his particular time and personal sight.
That calm seems certainly safe to last to-night.