LIVING THROUGH THE FOG

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I don’t own much, as a single 25-year-old with roommates, but I’m currently downsizing.  I’m currently in the process of cutting out the excess. And this involves a lot of cleaning.

Yet this isn’t normal cleaning. It’s not ‘pick up this and that, vacuum, and do some laundry’ cleaning. It’s honestly less like cleaning, and more like abandoning the useless. This is the ‘pull out the old, find the discarded, get everything you own in front of you, this may take weeks’ type of cleaning. And in this cleaning, the mess just seems to accumulate. The floors become covered, the junk becomes scattered, and, yet, through it all, progress is made.

It’s a funny thing how a deep clean first leads to a deep mess. How a real cleaning must start with making a real mess, and getting everything you’ve been hiding out in front of you. It seems counterproductive, yet it’s necessary. It is the first step. It is a part of life.

As we go forth in this life, and we try to clean our lives up and simplify; as we try to find clarity, we first run into messes and fog. The key, I believe, is seeing these moments as necessary – as the first step towards progress.

Our mess. Our confusion. Our chaos.

It all must be experienced. Without living through the mess and confusion, we feel no relief when the fog lifts, and the road ahead can be seen as straight and smooth.

Without the mess, we won’t know what to do when the fog lowers once again, and confusion sets in. Yet because we have lived, and our lives have already had moments of clutter and fog, we will come out of the other end stronger each time. Wiser each time. Because with each bout of fog and chaos comes a bout with clarity, where we can feel the sun on our faces. And each time, that same sun feels warmer, and looks brighter, and that same fog seems lighter the next.

Through the fog comes the sun.

Through the chaos comes the calm.

And what a worthwhile fog it is.

What a worthwhile chaos it becomes.

 

-a pitiful masterpiece

WRITTEN IN SILENCE

In the quiet times – in the dead opposition of busyness – is where we truly see the colors drawn on our flags. In the isolation of self – that is where we discover our true allegiances.

So instead we strive for busyness. Because in busyness we can look to see only a cause. Only an interaction. Only a conversation. In our busyness, we are busy trying. Sometimes, it’s trying to be liked, or trying to give a good first impression. Other times, it’s trying to not be noticed. Regardless of what we’re trying to do or be, we must ask ourselves this:

Where do we go to stop trying? Where do we go to simply be?

For me, the meaningful, thoughtful part of me is found in solitude. It is found in the moments when a thought catches my mind and all else is blurred. It’s not always solitude as we see it, but is sometimes found within a moment of chaos, which makes it all the more beautiful. It is found in the real-life movie scene, where everything slows down. Voices soften. Faces blur. A single monologue begins.

It may ask questions. Or summarize. Or find a simple meaning or lesson in an otherwise complex situation. Life is about these moments, for these are the moments that shape us. Change us. Move us forward.

Life is lived for the simple moments found in chaos, like a light rain in the midst of a battle. These are the moments that refresh in the midst of calamity. The moments in which fear and confusion give way, opening up to something which improves our humanity and gives peace. You cannot manufacture these moments, you can only remember what you’ve learned, and look forward to the next. These are the moments which will always remind us the cherished moments are never written on a schedule. They just happen. Our job is to simply be ready.

Hopefully this makes sense in the morning.