Leaving Something Behind

 

I am human. I share many elements of my nature with other beings on this planet. I laugh, I cry, I aspire to things, hope for things, wish for things, work for things. I am the amalgam of the bits I brought into this world as part of my inherited equipment, interacting with all the stuff that has come my way through all my living years. This is no different than what it is for all of us out there.

We don't get through life without having things stirring around inside our heads. In my head there are always issues struggling to get out, things I am longing to express, to articulate, if only to myself. Since I am gabby to a fault, and I seem to have no trouble vomiting it all out , this should be no problem. Right? 

Not right! The most difficult part of this process is getting it right inside my head. Before I spit it out.  I have to understand what it is that's itching, burning, stuck in my craw. I have to do that first before I can get it out into the light of day. That process can take some time, even years, even a lifetime.

I'm sure some of you have these issues. Some are deeply buried, only rising to the surface occasionally, We have the daily issues of life that are urgent, demanding our focused attention in the now. But back again these issues come back to the surface, when we have the luxury of time for contemplation; they rise to the surface like a bad penny. We mostly shove them away again and again, not prepared to confront them. Sometimes they are just too challenging, disturbing the bases on which we  lives our lives.

Life can be all sorts of things. If we are fortunate, we get to enjoy our share of the wonderful things that give us pleasure. Something as mundane as a good meal, or even a crust of bread when we are very hungry, a glass of cold, clear water when we are very thirsty. How about realizing the achievement of a goal that we have dreamed of all our lives?

How about when something that is very painful stops hurting. Isn't that a joy and a relief? Holding a newborn in your arms, especially one that is yours, sensing the potential of new life, how about that? How about that time when you feel a communion with another creature, male or female, human or animal, that takes you out of yourself to a unity with another creature. That can alleviate, at least for a while, the essential loneliness that is our fate as humans.

So, with all the pleasures and pain we are heir to, with all the wonders and horrors arrayed before our eyes, and flooding into our minds, is our function only existential;  is that why we are here? Shall I explore the meta-physical, the Deity's plan pursued? Can we find some comfort and purpose there? Or are we simply another life form improbably trial-and-errored successfully on this one planet out of a billion billions in the cosmos. The mind reels with the possibilities if we abandon our human-centered hypothesis of a caring Life-force paying attention to our minuscule spot in our galaxy.

I must center my speculations much closer to home. Poor me, I had such simple goals. I was going to sacrifice myself to achieve a goal much larger, greater, than myself. Martyrdom was my goal, blood and sweat cast upon the dry soil, watering it so that flowers would bloom. So many die for no purpose. My sacrifice would have a purpose. Wasn't that a worthy price to pay for the gift of life? Problem was, I grew up!

Still, surely my life had to have a purpose beyond just breathing in and out. Is it just to be a matter of survival mode? Should it be just about that? Don't we have a responsibility to do something about improving the world around us? Look at what so many other men and women have done- invention, industry, music, art, literature, leadership, leaving something behind. We’ve read about them. We are as good as they are, aren't  we? Surely I can make a mark upon the wall of time like they did, can't I?

So, off I went, Don Quixote, to do battle, subduing all the windmills I came across, for the betterment of my fellow man, and to make my mark upon the world.

I am looking back now, very much closer to the end of my journey than to my beginning. It is not too soon to assess the results of my crusade. I did all the ordinary things, worked at a number of jobs I believe contained value, got married, had children. All of these were important in their way.. But have I built an immortal edifice to my passing on this earth?.

 How can I face my life-partner and my children and tell them that my aspirations were elsewhere? How much of the attentions that I owed to them were expended on pursuing my ego-driven drive to assemble the building blocks of the Giza-like edifice I was determined to construct? And how ironic? My only long-term claims to fame and immortality reside in the new life I was privileged to contribute to bringing into the world. All my vaunted achievements, with which I had consoled my ego, labelling them as being worthy of merit, have vanished like dust scattered by the winds of time.

All I retain is my nostalgia for those breathless instants at the barricades. Still, I am one of the lucky ones. I believe I have left something worthwhile behind..

What’s happening at your house?