At times I feel guilty for just living, for simply eating and sleeping and doing the basics to live. I feel like I should be doing more, having more impact on the world. I am not sure if this is guilt inherited from a capitalist system that wants me to be always producing. Or perhaps this guilt is inherited from a Catholic vision of the world where I feel like I need to work off the shame of original sin or all the other sins that generations of my ancestors have heaped on top of that. Or an activist guilt: fear that the world is in desperate need of something that I might have to offer and need to be working to give. It is probably a wicked cocktail of all of these.
And I recognize the inherent value of simply living, of caring for myself and my family. Truly, all other activities of value, from philosophy to politics to art to food, should aim at making conditions possible for people to live well, to care for self, family and community in peace. If we cannot live well in the everyday lifeways that make up our daily rhythms, all other activities are worthless.
I sometimes imagine another person, someone in a far more difficult situation, imagining me, and demanding that I enjoy every last drop of my privilege, that I forge excellence from all the good material I have been given. I feel like I owe this to these imaginary strangers, to all those who came before me and to all those who currently are out there now dying for the opportunities that I have. Perhaps I am connecting with myself in the future remembering back to my self now in this blessed time… or perhaps I am sensing future generations invoking me as ancestor. How can I show up for them, now?
Sometimes the best thing to do is very little. Wouldn’t our world be better if people weren’t always running around trying to do so many things? All the do-goodery has really screwed us over the centuries—too many damn crusades.
My dear wife reminded me today: rest, fallow time, space, all the emptinesses and silences are of vital importance. So many haven’t had that luxury. Nor have I, except rarely. It is so good to have space in between the movement and action, yin to balance the yang. I have done many things in my life, and it is time to do less, better. Time to simply nurture my child. This is enough.
And I recognize the inherent value of simply living, of caring for myself and my family. Truly, all other activities of value, from philosophy to politics to art to food, should aim at making conditions possible for people to live well, to care for self, family and community in peace. If we cannot live well in the everyday lifeways that make up our daily rhythms, all other activities are worthless.
I sometimes imagine another person, someone in a far more difficult situation, imagining me, and demanding that I enjoy every last drop of my privilege, that I forge excellence from all the good material I have been given. I feel like I owe this to these imaginary strangers, to all those who came before me and to all those who currently are out there now dying for the opportunities that I have. Perhaps I am connecting with myself in the future remembering back to my self now in this blessed time… or perhaps I am sensing future generations invoking me as ancestor. How can I show up for them, now?
Sometimes the best thing to do is very little. Wouldn’t our world be better if people weren’t always running around trying to do so many things? All the do-goodery has really screwed us over the centuries—too many damn crusades.
My dear wife reminded me today: rest, fallow time, space, all the emptinesses and silences are of vital importance. So many haven’t had that luxury. Nor have I, except rarely. It is so good to have space in between the movement and action, yin to balance the yang. I have done many things in my life, and it is time to do less, better. Time to simply nurture my child. This is enough.
