“Wisdom is knowing I am nothing,
Love is knowing I am everything,
and between the two my life moves.”
― Nisargadatta Maharaj
Do we ever make the most of life?
It’s a serious question.
I don’t think so.
Of course, my judgment could be off; but if I look at the people I know, too many exist inside a vortex of doing and never stop to ask a more serious question than:
It’s no wonder we’re exhausted.
Perhaps it’s an age thing, but only latterly have I begun to appreciate the enormous pleasure of silence, nature and non-doing. Why? Because I feel alive. More particularly, my mind is at rest, my body feels relaxed and there’s a spiritual connection with everything.
What about you?
When was the last time you felt fully alive?
In many ways, the rubric to this post is out of whack with what I’m trying to say, but then again, imagine a world where we took pleasure in talking about and sharing our experience of doing nothing.
Think about it: too many conversations are premised on wringing the living daylights out of life or buying (normally) some amazing, earth-shattering experience lived at 1,000 miles per hour; and there’s always an expectation that if only we tried just a bit harder, we can have it all.
As I say, perhaps it’s an age thing but then again, the less I feel compelled to do — morally or otherwise — the happier I feel.
Is that wrong?
I hope not.