Jul 6, 2007

Logan's Run

I stepped outside myself and suddenly everything was so bright that I was a bit disoriented. Fuzzy and blotchy and certain parts of the world were giving off the glare that jolted a shock similar to pain. Within moments, though, this new illumination was causing me to scrutinize things in a whole new "light" and I found the flowers brighter, the grass deeper, the shadows softer, less scary, more welcoming in their union with the sun.
It's like this sometimes: you don't see the richness of a bright new light unless you step into it.
It's why we go outside instead of sticking to the comfort of your climate controlled homes. It's why we risk exposure.

There has been a lot of talk about sacrifice lately. Duty and honor and what it takes to be the right thing and be a man. Maybe we are all barking up the wrong tree with this angle. Shining a torch instead of turning on a light. Making the changes and sacrfices inevitable in life to narrow. Too small. Equating growth and change to venturing outside simply to gather wood and trap and gather food. Cutting short of the possible metamorphosis when our eyes hit the sun and cease to squint. Forgetting the pleasure of the new.

Yes. There are times when we must venture outside in the sleet and snow or in the unholy heat to do a chore. We must leave ease and predictability to not only perservere, but to continue our meager existence. And duty is essential. And nobody is going to appreciate it when you didn't bother to tend the garden because you felt like sitting on your ass and watching TV.

But that is in the end, not the point, is it? NOT THE POINT. People summit mountain tops and hike great distances forsaking comfort and ease just to be immersed in that great big scary wide world some toil to spend 5 minutes bearing. They do it because it's worth the sacrifice. They do it because the the pleasure of the gain eclipses the effort. They do it because, in the end, everything looks so much more beautiful when lit by the sun.

It's not about doing your duty. It's about making the burden of your duty a footnote to your gain.
We all think far far far too much. We reason away the point of our actions with the rationality of our moves.
If you don't like the sun you probably shouldn't go outside in the first place. But you'll never know if you never walk out the door. And if you discover the world bathed in the warmth of that orb, you'll probably forget your blisters in the joy of the moment. Slap on some bandaids, head on outside day in day out again and again.
Not because it's duty. But because it's life.

It's how we grow.

No comments: