wont

Yann Matel, in his book "Life of Pi", makes an interesting comparison early in the story: "The reason death sticks so closely to life isn't biological necessity, it's envy. Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous, possessive love that grabs at what it can...".

I find this to be an amazing treatise on life. It can be expanded to fit many of the ills I have lived through my life. Be in my dislike for having thick curly hair (I always liked Brant's hair...long, flowing, always easily 'combed' simply by shaking his head once). Or my frustration in grade school. I was the fasted kid in my grade. However, I attended a small school and each classroom was comprised of two grades. When my grade was the youngest of the two grades, my friend Brant, a year older, was the fastest kid in the classroom. When my grade was the oldest, John, a year younger, was the fastest kid in the classroom. My older brother had all the advantages of connections to people with connections...he has prospered well.

When I look around my life I can see how I've lived a life of comparison...constantly. It's kept me from savoring the moments of others, and kept me from savoring my own moments. There has been chronic fear of not being good enough, or of good things not lasting, and while that has kept me motivated, it's also kept me running and never relaxing in the peace of life.

Now, nearing 50, I am not sure I am attracted to what I have seemed to have done with my life. The feeling of being unsettled is more than a bit strong and kind of a meddlesome experience of each day. Being antsy, wondering what is over the next hill, even moreso wondering what cool experience exists over the hill to the side. Too much a life experienced from a zoned-out glaze.

The rudiments of this are dissatisfaction with self and Life. Judgment and fear invade each new experience and gone are the delights.

Oh, I am pretty sure those folk who seem to have the wonderful life are in their own private cells...or meadows or garages...all proverbial cells. And those folk living the mindful existence may be just as turned off or bored or prone to wondering 'is this it?' (that is a question posed to me at one of my most vulnerable of times...in retrospect I should have left the scene with all due haste and never looked back). Yet such comments are further evidence of a life of wont and not a life of Life.

It is possible Life is an experience of wanting wont.