Last week, I was saying that it’s possible to create something new. That our present reality isn’t as fixed as it seems. That everything is constantly changing.
If you don’t surrender to inertia, of course. Some people seem not so much to change as to become stiff and used up over time. Digging themselves into their grooves. Wrinkles deepen, habits freeze, mobility disappears — and little by little possibilities give way to regrets…
I don’t want to lose my mobility as I grow old. I don’t want arthritis to cripple my joints or my ways of thinking and seeing.
The liveliest people, the ones who keep their mobility even at an advanced age, are the ones who love and create.
If I don’t see this, I will tend to stay in the world I’ve made for myself, to stop moving.
Life itself is the engine of change if it is not thwarted.
And since thoughts come and go (see #1), reality can change.
If I don’t see this, I will be subjugated to external forces and circumstances.
There’s no need to resign oneself to being “defective” in any aspect of life that matters.
If I don’t see this, I’ll keep tolerating what I believe to be my limits.
If I don’t know how to create, I will view changes as “problems to be solved” and my journey will be dry and joyless.
Without vision, I am condemned to reaction. I tend to merely avoid what I don’t want.
What do I love so much that I long to see more of it in the world? If it calls to me, it already exists. It wants to grow. It can grow, if for just one minute I could tear my eyes away from the false limits I have set for myself.
Otherwise what I want to create will stay in an embryonic state, mere intentions and wishful thinking.
If I don’t see this, all my efforts will aim to fill a bottomless hole, and my attempts to create will be polluted by the fear of inadequacy.
Sounds like an ambitious program? Sure. But a more interesting one than mental arthritis and cynical resignation, isn’t it?