I’ve lead a very lucky life, there’s no doubt. I reflect on it often, and try to remain constantly grateful.
But there’s an aspect to my “luck” a friend brought to my attention that made me realize there’s much more to it than the serendipity the word luck implies.
One has to prepare and be open to being lucky.
Tears were running down my cheeks. Serious, vision-blurring tears. Which was probably a bad thing, since I was driving at the time, and my path included at least one school zone.
It was probably around 2001 or 2002, and I was on my way from my home to that of my parents. My mom had just called with some situation that my dad, who had alzheimer’s, had likely gotten himself into. It was a crisis of some sort — small or large — but the severity of each had been increasing over time.
I’d be in tears again on the return trip home. It’s hard to drive that same road today and not remember.
Dealing with my parents as they aged, being the designated on-call crisis manager, was incredibly stressful. But it was also incredibly educational.
I learned a lot about myself, and life, in those tumultuous days.
We spend a lot of energy worrying about and stressing over things that, in the long run, aren’t really that important.
And by “long run” I really do mean long runs: decades and even lifetimes.
It brings to mind the book title: “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff, and It’s All Small Stuff.” (Though I don’t quite agree that absolutely everything is “small stuff”.)
At some point on our path the question changes from “What do you want to be when you grow up?” to “Where do you see yourself in five years?”
Same question, different words.
I could never answer either of them. Oh, I’d come up with something — “astronaut”, “lead engineer”, that kind of thing — but it was never a reflection of my true desires or goals. I had no idea what those were.
I’ve never really had life goals, and it’s worked out just fine.
I think I know why.
Once you reach a certain age it’s natural to want to share experience, lessons learned, and advice with those younger than yourself. I’m no exception.
I also realize how frustrating it is to have someone older tell you what you should be doing, thinking, or valuing. Experience based lessons or not, it’s just annoying, and presumptuous if you’ve not asked for the advice.
My solution? My blog.
I’ve been meditating on and off, though mostly on, since the summer of 2010 when I purchased a copy of 8 Minute Meditation: Quiet Your Mind. Change Your Life, by Victor Davich. It was an appealing, secular approach to meditation that helped me get started.
Several years ago I installed both the Headspace and Insight Timer apps on my phone. They’ve been my go-to tools for meditation ever since; Headspace for Andy Puddicomb’s gently guided meditations, and Insight Timer for those times when I’m just looking for a “do it myself” approach. Both are great, though it’s Headspace I’ve purchased for others as gifts.
What I realized, through, is that when it comes to guided meditation — the phase I happen to be in currently — I kinda suck.