There are lessons that we need to learn again and again. Some of them, the particularly galling ones, we need to relearn every single day.
I feel as if I’ve been here before. The blessing (and bane) of a blog is the opportunity it provides for the blog writer to realize how circular (how repetitive) her thoughts can be. I come back time and again to the same anxieties, the same fears, the same terrors, and (perhaps most terrifying of all) the same reassurances. Buddhism has an excellent word for this: samskara, or literally, imprint. Our experiences, feelings and thoughts leave impressions on our consciousness, impressions that when revisited time and again eventually become ruts so that our minds orbit the same constellation of concerns over, and over, and over again.
And because we’ve got our noses so close to the ground, we don’t notice how familiar the terrain is, how monotonous the landscape has become.
(So I’m mixing my metaphors. It’s a calculated risk.)
So, yes, here I am again, disliking where I am again, disliking the anxiety, disliking the risk, disliking the uncertainty, and disliking the utter absence of even a false assurance.
(All assurances are false, by the way. Not because they’re never true, but because the impermanent nature of reality means that they’re never true forever. And, to paraphrase an old Anne Murray song, if truth never lasts forever, what’s forever for?)
So what’s the lesson? The lesson that I learned (just yesterday it seemed) and now have to learn again?
Let go, and let go, and let go even of letting go.
At some point, I suppose it will have to get easier.