Homesteading on Quadra Island is giving me the opportunity to be with myself, uninterrupted. (There is Mike the cat here as well, but he doesn’t count). I am only 3 days into this experience as I write this, and I woke up feeling gloomy. After animal chores were completed I had nothing much else to do, so I began my meditation practice. It was then that the state of my affairs became more clear. Without the usual distractions of life, I am realizing that I have departed the world of "doing" and am now immersed in a world of "being".
Questions are arising for me like, “Who am I?” “Why am I here?” “What is my purpose?” Big questions!
The meditation chair felt like both a comfort and a challenge today. As my breath settled, my shoulders dropped and the morning's gloom began to transform into something else - not happiness exactly, but a kind of acceptance.
The home I am staying at sits about 20 feet above the ocean, facing south into the vastness of the sea. The 'emptiness' and tap-tap-tap of the rainy day fills my head as I stare out into the grey horizon. I experience a dullness that offers me no suggestions, and is far from alluring.
Yes, the solid log house is beautiful. The warm glow of the fire is nice. I can hear the heavy wood stove's iron expand in the endless quiet.
… And that seems to be all there is. There's just Mike and I, staying dry and warm, while 4 goats, a handful of ducks and a bunch of chickens fend for themselves in the cold, damp December air.
The power went out at one point. I was still warm and dry, but the sense of seclusion I felt seemed to multiply. "Now what?" I wondered. "I can’t even cook something to distract myself". Then came the deeper questions: "Why do I want to avoid myself? What am I afraid to find?"
Mike doesn’t seem to notice any of this. He is content, curled up on a blanket close to me. He isn’t worried about deadlines and production. So what if he didn’t catch a mouse today? It is obvious he is content just being… Mike. Sometimes he jumps on the counter. I tell him to get off, so he curls up on my lap instead. He lets me know when his bowl of food is empty, then he has a snack and he returns to what he was doing before… nothing. Maybe I should be more like a cat. Mike's simple wisdom seems to mock my human struggles. While I'm grappling with purpose and meaning, he has mastered the art of existing without justification.
In this stripped-down existence, I'm forced to confront the rawness of Being. The questions that I usually hide behind my computer screen and my to-do lists now float to the surface. Perhaps this space is what happiness requires - instead of a constant doing; the courage to simply "be" - to sit with these deep questions until they stop feeling like strangers.
Ahhhh, the courage to be. In the face of perceived social pressure, I have scooped up and given meaning to my impulses to produce, perform and achieve. (In order to be "happy"?) In the end, maybe that false sense of happiness has really just been my attempt at an 'easy way out'.
It's funny how life works. Perhaps finding true happiness might mean letting go of everything I used to think would make me happy. (That's the real challenge, isn't it? Not just stepping away from the "doing", but learning to value the "being").
There seems to be a collective attempt to stay busy until our very last days. The question is, what for? Creating spaciousness for a deep unveiling of Truth, as foreign as the process may feel, is possibly where the real treasure in our lives lies. I will never know unless I make the journey... .
Well, I have six weeks to be here now... and I have always loved a great challenge.