I read a little story about Thomas Merton. It was said that when he was a Trappist novitiate he met Thach Nit Than, who was also new to a monastary. Merton asked him what he had learned from his first years of dedicated life. Than’s answer was “To open and close doors quietly”.
(I read this on the amazing blog “Whisky and Porn for Everyone”).
It really resonated with me in many ways, not the least of which is that I, just like anyone else, could be quieter. Seriously. But I digress.
The whole idea of moving through life quietly, leaving little footprint, is more attractive to me as I grow older. I think that many things fall away, but, for me, I think I WANT things to fall away. I want so badly to be quiet, to live in some sort of semblance of peace and ease. I want to stop worrying about what others do, what I do, what others do in relation to me. And it is very hard for me because I have not lived my life like that up to this point.
I always feel like I barreled through life, caught up in some weird flow that carried me from place to place, job to job, person to person. Not a BAD flow, but a flow. And I’m not religious, so don’t mistake this for a line of “god’s will” or “jesus take the wheel”…it’s much more that I have allowed myself the space to move from place to place with no plan. Or, better yet, I have never really had any kind of a plan and I’ve been lucky as shit! A lot of the things in my life didn’t necessarily come to me by choice: they appeared and I took them. Or fell into them. (I constantly want to make myself look more pro-active; I’m not). I’m still like that, hanging on, hoping for something to come along and save me, to pick me up in it’s flow and carry me along through the last part of my life.
But I don’t really want that. I really want to make something happen for myself. I want to open and shut doors quietly and determinedly until I find what I want to do, be.