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Two Million Miles Per Hour

Posted in Adventures With Humans

I have something to say about doubt and fear, but first did you know that there’s a star fragment leaving our galaxy at, get this, over two million miles per hour? In consideration of this, everything else is kind of stupid, isn’t it? We are playing ‘house,’ is all.
Two million miles per hour.
And yet I’m writing to you about doubt and fear. Well, okay.
Doubt and fear both have higher and lower expressions. In the realm of Buddhism, doubt can be slight, as in a curiosity about a situation, like observing the guy driving the black gymnasium-on-wheels Escalade with the tinted windows. He has his left blinker on, but you are not fully believing that he means to turn. You sense a possibility that he is intending to drive straight through, so you pause. This is helpful doubt. He drives through, moving into a different postal code. Doubt, lobbed as cynicism without any effort to parse is useless, often ego-driven as a way to avoid being engaged towards any learning or growth. I think there is assumption woven into this that might show as something like, jeeze, almost anything these days; climate change, vaccinations, the subtleties of being nice to each other…

Fear. I’ve read that fear of snakes and spiders is left over from our more primal ancestors as something that kept us alive. Fear is an internal indicator of something concerning that you can feel in your gut, or when ramped up and pure, it can manifest as trauma. Low-level, I think there is a component of anxiety to it, like a frill along the edges. Me, when I am practicing non-attachment poorly, I fear for the world. There is little benefit in me being fearful. I jettisoned my wishes of how I wanted my life to go some time in the past since it was clear that something different was unfolding. I’m aware of my mortality which is different than being afraid of it. Instead, “the inevitable” helps me use my time better. So, while I am concerned for the planet, I am most useful when I am present, functioning in a realm of wholeness. I am “answering the call for adventure,” as Joseph Campbell spoke of. No point in anything else.
Well how does that feel?
It’s a relief. I spoke of surrender, and this is a benefit of that. To be clear, it isn’t dismissal.

There’s been a full day since the previous sentence. I have noticed that my body feels like it's falling away from my soul. I can't blame it. 


Well, do you know what's anchoring this day? I promised to help out a complete stranger who wants to get rid of a hornet's nest under her deck. I offered to do this for her. She had had a stroke, and does not have the use of her right hand. What the hell was I going to do? Scroll past and wish her luck? Why the hell was I the first one to commit so far down the...agh, it doesn't matter does it. 

This is good of you to do.

I'm being played. I think this is the universe distracting me into next week. 

Distracting you from what?

From perhaps more doubt than is good for me. 

Say more.

Of course I want the pinnacle feeling, but I am not a sacred dweller in these feet. I am flawed, and wanting, and doing my best. The jet stream is collapsing. Sometimes, though I am trying so hard, my body needs arms around it. Who would notice? Who the hell reads this?