I have what I need. I have enough to experience joy and happiness. It is really my choice. So, why so discontent? Why the ambition?
Today, on my swim, I occupied a lane next to a guy who could (what appeared to be effortlessly), swim circles around me. Understand that I execute a very efficient stroke; I am in relatively robust health and good condition. Nonetheless, without a genetic modification or a Lance Armstrong boost, I could not “best” this guy – and many others – at the peak of my health and with as efficient a stroke as the best training could equip me. Still, it would be nice; and still, I want more.
Years ago, this realization would have brought a bit of despair – this inability to compete – to swim faster, run longer, climb higher. Not any more. At least, not as much. Today, in this here and now, I just marvel at how amazing and wonderful different people are with their varied exceptional abilities. Watching their prowess and imagining their sense of exhilaration makes me smile and guiltily take vicarious pleasure in their achievement.
I'd like to report that it is because I have, like many Buddhists, diminished my clinging and longing. Rather than any new-age enlightenment, this contentedness has more to do with bumping up against mortality and God and natures' gifts of imperfections.
What would life be without struggle, without reaching for more or striving for perfection, even when an aging vessel puts it further from my reach? Answer: not much, at least not for me.
So, when you pass me on your swim, your run, or during your climb, understand that you're no longer putting me in your wake, but placing yourself in my line of vision where I and others can praise the wonder and miracle of our existence. Climb on, live strong, be at peace – ahead or behind.
Loren M. Lambert © December 13, 2012
Today, on my swim, I occupied a lane next to a guy who could (what appeared to be effortlessly), swim circles around me. Understand that I execute a very efficient stroke; I am in relatively robust health and good condition. Nonetheless, without a genetic modification or a Lance Armstrong boost, I could not “best” this guy – and many others – at the peak of my health and with as efficient a stroke as the best training could equip me. Still, it would be nice; and still, I want more.
Years ago, this realization would have brought a bit of despair – this inability to compete – to swim faster, run longer, climb higher. Not any more. At least, not as much. Today, in this here and now, I just marvel at how amazing and wonderful different people are with their varied exceptional abilities. Watching their prowess and imagining their sense of exhilaration makes me smile and guiltily take vicarious pleasure in their achievement.
I'd like to report that it is because I have, like many Buddhists, diminished my clinging and longing. Rather than any new-age enlightenment, this contentedness has more to do with bumping up against mortality and God and natures' gifts of imperfections.
What would life be without struggle, without reaching for more or striving for perfection, even when an aging vessel puts it further from my reach? Answer: not much, at least not for me.
So, when you pass me on your swim, your run, or during your climb, understand that you're no longer putting me in your wake, but placing yourself in my line of vision where I and others can praise the wonder and miracle of our existence. Climb on, live strong, be at peace – ahead or behind.
Loren M. Lambert © December 13, 2012
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