What started the blog. The thoughts were already there...
I had to drop the kids off at an escape room. I didn't want to be the guy who sat inside, yelling at a bunch of 11 year olds, "Are you idiots?? Can't you see that goddamn clue??" so I chose to sit outside. Win/win if you ask me.
After watching the intro video twice on the lobby TV, I realized the group I had brought were not geniuses and would probably be taking closer to the full hour. Seeing nothing of interest in the standard escape room lobby decor, I turned around on the bench to look out the window.
Industrial park. Not much to see there either. Self-storage garage doors in the distance. An abandoned mini-dozer in the forefront. An expanse of empty parking lot.
Then the flag caught my eye. Flapping in the late summer breeze. That's a good focal point. I straightened my posture, but relaxed my consciousness.
I was reminded of a story where people were lamenting the cost of upkeep on flags; apparently the tips of flags travel at ridiculous speeds and the constant whipping can rip a large flag in the matter of months.
The flag adapts constantly to its surroundings, but harms itself by doing so.
Ah, I thought. So in life, I don't want to be the flag, sacrificing myself for the whims of others. What about the pole?
The pole showed signs of wear. The open expanse left it exposed. The wind is generally out of the south, and that along with the sun had weathered the south side noticeably more than the north.
So, though the pole resists its surroundings, it still suffers.
Then what? If adjusting is harmful and resisting is harmful, then what?
Be the wind.
It is a blend of adjusting and resisting, but with fluidity. The wind guides what will be guided and adjusts around whatever cannot be changed. It maintains its long range direction, despite short range adjustments. And sacrifices little of itself in doing so.
After watching the intro video twice on the lobby TV, I realized the group I had brought were not geniuses and would probably be taking closer to the full hour. Seeing nothing of interest in the standard escape room lobby decor, I turned around on the bench to look out the window.
Industrial park. Not much to see there either. Self-storage garage doors in the distance. An abandoned mini-dozer in the forefront. An expanse of empty parking lot.
Then the flag caught my eye. Flapping in the late summer breeze. That's a good focal point. I straightened my posture, but relaxed my consciousness.
I was reminded of a story where people were lamenting the cost of upkeep on flags; apparently the tips of flags travel at ridiculous speeds and the constant whipping can rip a large flag in the matter of months.
The flag adapts constantly to its surroundings, but harms itself by doing so.
Ah, I thought. So in life, I don't want to be the flag, sacrificing myself for the whims of others. What about the pole?
The pole showed signs of wear. The open expanse left it exposed. The wind is generally out of the south, and that along with the sun had weathered the south side noticeably more than the north.
So, though the pole resists its surroundings, it still suffers.
Then what? If adjusting is harmful and resisting is harmful, then what?
Be the wind.
It is a blend of adjusting and resisting, but with fluidity. The wind guides what will be guided and adjusts around whatever cannot be changed. It maintains its long range direction, despite short range adjustments. And sacrifices little of itself in doing so.
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