There is a part of each one of us—the dreamer, the romantic, the artist, the creative imagination—that brings forth all possibilities. This part of us never ages, never suffers and is inherently happy, joyous and free. This core of our being holds our existence in a space of unconditional love of self and another, a space that is both finite and infinite simultaneously. It is the home of feeling whole and completely satisfied.
I enjoyed spending a day with my son today. I was 42 when he was born, and I’ve grown up with him in many ways. I was reminded of all the earnest insights and ‘wisdom’ I tried to give him over the years, most of which I am not sure I even believe these days. Is a college education really a better choice than going into the trades? There are more unemployed liberal arts graduates than there are unemployed carpenters. Is all the knowledge I’ve acquired in my life really worth much to a young man who has in some ways more real-life experience than I do and who is living in a very different reality than the one I’ve lived in most of my life?
He and I were talking about ‘the world’. I could appreciate his deep concern for not only his future, but also for the future of his entire generation. I could hear his frustration with himself for not having a clear sense of what he wants or where he is going. And yet I have an appreciation of how unreliable and uncertain such goal-oriented living can be. The issues he is working on at his age are much the same as the ones I am working on at my age (and indeed have always been working on).
What do I want?
What should I do?
Who am I?
These questions are seemingly permanent fixtures in our life process…the primary difference between me and my son in dealing with these questions is that my son doesn’t expect to have answers at 22 and I believe I should know the answers by now.
I think what I have really learned is that life is richest when we just love the questions. As Rainier Maria Rilke said:
