Tension as a way of knowing I'm alive?

I’m restless again. It’s not that I don’t have enough to do! I could make calls, send emails, talk with/see people, write articles/books; record and edit for 18 hours a day and still have more to do – but that’s not it.


It’s not about getting things done or even making a difference. It’s not about what we do or the outcome we get. It’s about how we go about it.

Again, this morning on CBC (I seem to be doing that a lot lately), I heard an interview with a doctor from Winnipeg who is serving with the Canadian Forces in Kandahar. It occurred to me as I listened to this compassionate and courageous man speak that he makes a difference. A life-and-death difference. And despite the hardships, the danger, the ever-present threat of losing his life, this was his second tour of duty and he’s committed to returning whenever they need him. Every time he goes, he leaves behind a woman he loves and who loves him, and two very young children. And yet, he goes.

I listened and I pondered how different my life is from his. The only death that I’ve know in my life is the passing of three, very aged family elders long ago when I was in my early teens. It seems that I live and have lived a charmed life in so many ways! I’ve wanted for nothing; I’ve been/done/gone what called to me to be/do/go – always with ease and without complication.

My thoughts come easily and flow abundantly and seem to bring an expansion of life when I share them with others. I know that over the years, thousands have been profoundly touched by their interaction with me and/or with the body of knowledge that I have created. All of which is wonderful, and yet……

Something about this radio conversation speaks to me of meaning in a different way. As this doctor spoke of his commitment to heal – regardless of his personal judgments/opinions/interpretations/etc about the person before him – I could see the faces of the others in the stories that he told. Young children severely wounded, caught in the crossfire of a battle with terror as its only outcome. Locals – friend and foe alike – all bleeding with the same result of an ebbing life force as his efforts are unable to stem the flow. Comrades engaging in various play – watching movies, coffee at Tim Horton’s and conversation about what’s going on ‘back home’, hip-hop lessons and samba classes – all efforts to bring a sense of ‘life goes on’ into the midst of such insanity. And all the while, just outside the edges of the cocoon they find themselves in, danger waits.

There is nothing dangerous about what I do. I am always safe. I am always at ease in my environment. I am always close to people I love and who love me. Things feel easy and effortless.

In this moment, I wonder: is that because my world is that way? Or is because I create my world that way?

Lately, I have been wondering about who we are as human beings. Do we need war and danger and pain in order for us to feel ‘alive’ and ‘meaningful’? As those Spiritual Beings having a human experience, do we need to design pain/danger/loss as a pathway to discovering something about ourselves and our humanity? Are these the things that call us to find valor, courage, strength within ourselves? Do we need to be self-less in order to find our Self?

What comes to mind is the part in ‘The Matrix’ where the agent is questioning Morpheus, and tells of the original programs for the sleeping ‘battery’ of humans – and how its easy and comfortable content left the sleeping captives restless and uneasy. The program had to be changed to allow for strife and conflict and struggle in order for them to sleep easy and well.

Do we have to push up against the edges of who we think we are in order to find out who we might become? And in doing so, do we need to kill ourselves and each other?

I don’t know – and I wonder….

Breathing is good……