I've been spending a lot of time lately meditating on the decisions I've made and how they've impacted my life. If I could travel back in time and tell myself to make different decisions, would I? Yes, there are things that I would change, but I wouldn't want to impact the birth of my spawn so I wouldn't risk it. That being said, the mere thought exercise seems like a fine way of figuring out the "origins of my suffering", to look at this from a Buddhist perspective. If I figure out why I decided what I decided, and why I'm unsatisfied, perhaps I could use that knowledge as self-discovery and guide my future decisions. It's been an interesting (and on-going) process, but that's not what I'm going to write about today.
In an adjunct to this process, I tried to think about times when I've been truly happy. It's easy to romanticize the past, but looking at things objectively it seems that I've rarely actually been satisfied. Every stage has more joy than sorrow, but when I actually examine my day-to-day memories, there's always something missing. Perhaps the difference between then and now is that I was working towards a goal which gave me purpose (see previous post). However, I'm beginning to think that finding a new goal isn't the answer. It seems like it's more of a construct or a coping mechanism to give me structure to get by. My ultimate failing is that I always want to do new things. The second that I'm good at something, I want to do something totally different. What this says to me is that working towards a goal is a crutch, and that while maybe finding a new target will get me through this period in my life, it likely won't solve the underlying pathology.
I think this is a common failing that different people deal with in different ways. My father went from hobby to hobby to hobby - becoming obsessed and discarding the old as they became stale. This was physically manifested by a bunch of half-finished house projects - which in some ways is the imagery that best reflects my life choices. Admittedly, my own story is a bit more fluid, but the parallel is still there. I think a lot of people deal with basal lack of satisfaction in their lives by looking for meaning - frequently through religion. If there is an afterlife, that's what matters, and you don't have to deal with your problems now. But again, that's avoidance. How can I find peace in my life in every moment? That answer should apply regardless of whether I'm a scientist or a business person or a stay at home mom. Peace/contentment comes from within and isn't affected by a Nobel prize or doing the laundry.
So really, is what I'm missing 'inner peace'? Do I need to join a monastery and meditate all day - not worrying about what to where or eat and just focusing on the moment? Honestly, that's very appealing. Back to my 'happy moments' - I think the happiest time for me was when I was writing my dissertation. I woke up and started writing. I'd take breaks to work out or play the piano, but basically I wrote from 6 am to at least midnight every day. I only thought about one thing. It was a completely meditative in the moment process, and as such it was pure. It's funny - even as a kid my dream was to have a cabin by myself in the woods by myself and write. But of course, I have the Breadwinner and the Spawn and I choose not to leave my life behind. Is it possible to have peace without disregarding duty and love? Fetters, I know, but fetters that I'm not ready to leave behind. The struggle, perhaps more noble than the cabin in the woods or the monastery in the mountains, is to find peace and live in the moment within society - to be able to transition from each separate type of activity and maintain that core of focus. I need to be not only mindful, but attentive to everything I do.
I know, I'm using a bunch of Buddhist buzz words here. This isn't a pro-Buddhist tract - and I'm not affiliated with any religion. Just trying to couch my internal debate in a framework that may apply. These things I'm talking about take effort and time. We'll see if I progress or not.
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