What if nothing matters? And I don’t mean some hopeless attitude, such as “Nothing I do, or nothing that happens, will make me happy.” Instead, what if my happiness is there already, at a most deep level? That the events of the world don’t impact that wellspring at all?
“Get a life, Bruce. You’re being nutty again.”
Well … maybe. But I wonder. Let’s look at some things. Here’s what I usually tell myself:
1. I need to walk – from my condo, along Main Street, to the Diner; down the fairways of Tarandowah; and on the paths of the Archie Coulter Conservation Area.
Maybe not. Perhaps I don’t even need to see my lovely golf course again. After all, it’s in my mind.
2. I need to meditate and go on silent retreats.
Actually, no. What if my brain becomes a jumble and I never see Massachusetts again? I sense that there’d still be a little smile on my face, that some current of energy would still be saying hello.
3. I need to have a loving partner in life, to share the wonders.
Hmm. I don’t know about that. I could feel love for all the folks that come my way each day, even if they don’t go home with me. When there’s love, can I really say that the version aimed at Deborah is more profound than the type flowing to Rob?
4. I need to be with people.
On one level, yes. But there are other levels. It’s possible that the rest of my life could be a solitary retreat, where I hole up in my condo and just come out for essentials. I could send love outwards, through walls and across the land, and never see the folks that it touches.
5. I need to be pain free.
That’s a tough one. How could I ever cope with a constant 8 on the scale of 10? It might be, though, that I could be happy even within the press of chronic pain. Maybe I could be present with the physical sensation without adding the “Ain’t it awful” emotion.
6. I need to travel.
Gosh, I’ve been to lots of places, and the best part of those adventures was the people I met along the way. Many of their life experiences were way different than mine but I can find folks like that at the Barking Cat Pub, less than half-an-hour’s walk from my front door.
7. I need to dance.
I love dancing but all those rhythms have taken up permanent residence in my head. Plus I play a mean set of thigh drums.
8. I need to golf.
I love the game but I don’t have to walk those fairways. I see the curling putts and the drives hit with a slight draw. I am intimate with the undulating greens, the fescue rough and the deep pot bunkers.
9. I need to have sex.
Sometimes I’m flooded with love, and what skin against skin can match that? I like physical sensations as much as anyone but my mind cranks out some cool stuff too. And the eyes are my favourite body part.
10. I need to be revered.
Wait a minute. If I have this reservoir of well-being inside me, then no other person’s words or actions can dampen that fullness. Praise and blame could just be two sides of a lovely coin.
Well, well, well
This has been a strange turn of the brain
I wonder if more strangeness is just up ahead
I’d be okay with that