Learning to Live

For me, and maybe for you, there is so much to learn just to be human. Just to reassure you, I am biologically a human. But being a human to me means something more. I mean living with a grateful and open heart, and living with awareness of the preciousness of life. It doesn't necessarily mean being happy, because happiness comes and goes, depending on the circumstances of life. But it's a kind of willingness and determination to engage with life, just as it is. That's being human, in my book. For many years, I was very, very insistent that I was right, and anything or anyone in conflict with me was at the very least misguided, but probably downright and seriously wrong. And it's been hard to make amends for that insistent, self-righteous former me. But I try. And that's all one can do.

Things have changed. Increasingly, I see that there's so little certainty to be had. Oh, there are occasions when I can puff myself up into believing my own propaganda. Usually that's when I'm hurt or angry, and then I can take a spin in the world of certainty. But it fades far more rapidly these days, thank heavens. For real certainty, that's a whole other thing. It's becoming more elusive, not more evident, as the years pile on. And that's a good thing.

Seeing everything as definite, as either good or bad, as either disgusting or delightful, is very limiting. And it's tiring. And it's just not seeing things clearly.

If we go about life unquestioningly, there's a very good chance that we'll become increasingly rigid and reflexive, and less wise and dynamic. Take a look around. Notice the people who are really admirable, the ones who stand out because they stay competent even when situations get messy, who are generous and resourceful to others, who are adaptive and creative. They are unusual -- sometimes exceedingly rare. It's not so easy to stay curious, light-hearted, friendly, effective and gentle in a world that has the potential to be confusing, chaotic, and perhaps even hostile.

Many of us aren't taught much of what is so important to living well. We aren't taught how to be at ease in inevitable changes that life brings our way. We aren't taught to question our beliefs. We aren't taught that identities can become imprisoning. We aren't taught that it's wise to seek help as well as to offer it, as it's valuable to receive as well as give. We tend to forget the things that brought joy as a child -- paying attention to all of our senses, to the vivid colors, sounds and smells, even when a situation complex or challenging. (It works even for adults, if we cultivate it.) We aren't taught that feelings are ephemeral. Tomorrow, most of what we feel today will probably be different -- and that's not a problem. We aren't taught that expectations about ourself and others are very often a source of pain for us and others. So there's a lot to unlearn, to adjust and to relearn.

So we have to teach ourselves as we wend our ways through life. We teach ourselves from our embarrassing mistakes: the most humiliating catastrophes can be the most instructive (as I well know). We teach ourselves also by observing others. We see how others navigate a child's terrible twos, the illness of a spouse, the loss of a parent, and the graduation of their daughter -- and all of that teaches us about  generosity, kindness and celebration. We learn often by what we are surprised by: it shows us the edge of our beliefs and expectations. So by paying attention to what we do and the reactions, and by what we see others do, we learn.

And I find it's a further instruction to write. Because by writing, I can identify more carefully what seems to make a difference, what seems to be a salient factor in the event I'm noticing. So I undertake this project to remind myself: what can I learn about becoming more human? What is going on that I can observe and appreciate more closely? Am I flailing around or am I offering something of value in the world? Am I just colliding with the world through the eruption of my habits, or am I responding to the world appropriately, with something of valuable (however small). It's something to ponder.

So I begin this blog, hoping to encourage myself. What can I learn in this situation: what would being an admirable human being look like in this situation? And maybe by the end of my days, being an admirable human being will become something closer to habitual, something occasionally just a reflex. That's the goal.