I think that life is a practice. I mean the whole of life, from the start, is a practice. It’s not something we figure out. Even though it feels like that sometimes. Life rarely goes along with how we figure it to be…it rarely goes according to plan.
Is life what’s real…or is it the plan that’s real? Looking backward maybe it’s easy to see that the plan was really just an idea. After the plan there was…well, practice.
It works like this. We fall down and get up. Drop something, pick it back up. Leave things behind and gather new things. Move forward, pause, take a step back. Stay on course, change our mind. Struggle against, take a seat. Hold on, let go. Give in, give out. Soften, harden. Love and lose.
Here is a definition of practice from dictionary.com: the condition of having mastery of a skill through repetition.
So, do we ever get it right? Achieve mastery? What would that even look like?
I’ve decided the mastery of life is simply the living of it no matter what. It is showing up with humility, curiosity and courage knowing that plans don’t always work out, it’s not always easy and I don’t always get my way. It is stepping out of self judgment for all of the U-turns, switchbacks and times spent off the side of the road in the ditch.
It’s all about the practice. And if you’re still here…you’re still practicing.
Me too.
Paula
