Friday, May 27, 2011

No Boundaries

O this restless life. Searching, searching, searching. That's life. Seeking, asking, begging in front of every circumstance, "Please give me happiness."

Yet I do not want to make it sound like life is always a conscious, neurotic, aching urge that exhausts people with nervous tension. It would be stupid to deny that many people seem quite happy, and would describe themselves as satisfied. Some of them are living in denial. But others are genuinely, reasonably content. Aren't they?

Well...yes and no.

We can attain goals in life, and draw a measure of satisfaction from them. But life doesn't stop. When I achieve what I want, I find new possibilities opening up. The question emerges, "what shall I do next?" It can be a joyful experience, this journey. In fact, it is meant to be. But it keeps moving. It's an adventure, and as long as you are still breathing, you know in your heart that it's not over.

Look at the way you act.

Why do you do things? Because you want something. There is a sense of anticipation, a sense that reality has something to offer. So you choose, you act, and you possess things, enter into relationships, live life. And that sense of anticipation is verified. You have a taste of genuine goodness. But the sense of the possibility of fulfillment only deepens. The desire to live intensifies. To move forward.

Because you want something infinite.

The heart has no boundaries. Yet here we are, in this moment, in the midst of things that are limited. If we try to grasp things and stretch them so that they correspond to the scope of our hearts, we will distort them and ultimately tear them apart. This is violence.

But if we act with the recognition that there is something more, that the goodness of things points to something and promises something that we do not see and cannot attain by our own power, then we act with receptivity, with a need and a question that opens us up to something or Someone who corresponds to our boundless hearts. This is the seed of prayer.

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