The Cliff Route, or the Manicured Path?

Tonight I find it hard to sleep.  I know not why.  The symptoms were compounded by the surroundings, and an unconscious dismissal by another person.  Which woke me further. 

Such thoughts are always amplified tenfold in the night, the darkness engulfing you and magnifying tribulations into a raging torrent.  It is not my fault I can't sleep.  It is not anyone's fault that I am searching for meaning in my life - many have done this before.  What is my fault is allowing myself to feed the stream with a flow of consideration. I don't know why I do this - a subject takes hold and becomes an obsession.  I have to be forcibly extracted, or completely immersed to break the chain.

An interesting turn of events today.  A dear relative shared her concern that she is just existing most days, and doesn't know what her meaning is.  And this from someone much older than me, and someone I had thought did not consider such things, being happy with the status quo.  This gave rise to two thoughts of my own.  First, that - once again - I am not alone.  Whilst previous generations may not have made these connections, modernity dictates that even the most unexpected person thinks of these things once in a while.  The Second - a darker thought - that nothing changes and I have such a life to 'look forward' to.  Oh, dear - that doesn't help at all.

I already despise the thought of growing old.  The body fades and cannot do the happy things it once could.  Experiences are lost forever.  Opportunity for experiences are seldom if ever given, or realised when they do exist.

"Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years.  We grow old by deserting our ideals.  Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul."

~Samuel Ullman, Businessman, Poet, Humanitarian

I do not wish to desert my ideals, but it is sometimes hard to know how to fit them into one's mundane life.  I have enthusiasm in great abundance, but it is linked to things I should not be enthusiastic about. I don't yet have a wrinkled soul. 

The journey to enlightenment is one that minds far greater than mine have considered, yet I try.  I feel now that I need to explore the garden I live in, to be able to understand my place in it.  The typical view of perfection is neat and tidy and predictable.  You know where you are, there are few surprises, and the path is straightforward and open to your journey.  Ideals, as the destination, are worth pursuing.  A simple, direct route would be so easy...

All very beautiful, but is it real?  And it takes an enormous amount of work - not that I shy away from effort; I just tire of it every now and then.

I do wish that I could explore my ideals further, even if they seem to lead me in the wrong direction, like an italian garden where the low box hedges lead your eye to a point but prevent you for getting there.  You have to go around them. 

Or to find a path that is not straight, but goes via the exploration of new experiences and possible destruction.  Always assuming the pathway is not barred, to go there is to attempt to reach the perfect end, yet to have the experience along the way.  I don't wish to fall down a ravine, but I do wish to experience the thought and danger and wonder of doing so.  The path is unique and very special.  The short steps I have explored along it have confirmed that it is complex and never predictable, but engaging and a wonderful thing. No one will ever tame it, or understand it - which is part of its charm - I certainly could not be so immodest to pretend I do - although sometimes I mistakenly think I do.  I wish to tend the cliff path and help sustain it for the future, whilst also making it feel that it too can have a happy traveller with it, and that not all travellers wish for the manicured, bland journey. 

The easy path does not exist in my opinion.  There is no such thing as a weed-free, straight road to self-actualization - you have to take risks to find true beauty.  No perfect flowers exist - they are a myth, although there are beauties on the way that must be nurtured, even when you stray toward the cliff. 

But there are paths that are easier - stepping over the odd rambling greenery, the crumbling stones.  Probably though, there is not one choice, but many - at each stage of the journey, you make choices.  Moving towards the light is a series of small steps - a few flagstones at a time, with a choice that can be considered.

"Just as the ocean has a gradual shelf, a gradual slope, a gradual inclination, with a sudden drop-off only after a long stretch, in the same way this Doctrine and Discipline (dhamma-vinaya) has a gradual training, a gradual performance, a gradual progression, with a penetration to gnosis only after a long stretch." about the teachings of Buddha, by Bhikku

Small steps are a sign of determination.  As a certain gentleman of great pain travels from ancient battlefield to Athens, so I should use this to inspire a much shorter and less painful journey.  His journey will end but his pain will never finish.  But one step at a time, he moves forward.  And the journey has increased his worth - not just to himself, but to others, many times over.

So which path should I start on now?  One that leads to freedom of spirit without poisoning the flowers.