You can't escape from yourself

Recently, I was just reflecting on my friend, Reid, who is in Bangkok, Thailand, after he spent a month in Costa Rica working on an organic community farm. Those aren't places on my bucket list, but I admire those who seek exposure to other cultures, to other experiences among humanity that are strikingly different to our own. We need to see that contrast to understand that there are many states of being, any many that are honest and true and acceptable.

I wonder how much this kind of trip changes a person. I suppose it depends on what kind of person you already are. I love and am envious of the world traveler - I've done more than many, and I'm perfectly capable of doing more traveling myself. Yes, I've committed my time and energy to my children and job responsibilities, but that was a choice. I could trade places with him in many ways right now. But, I did make a choice, and that choice asks of me that I be present, and consistent and dependable. To be the best father and worker possible.

Many of us experience the same. The nagging feeling we should be somewhere else, doing something far more interesting than what we're doing here and now. I've done my share - feeling like someone, somewhere else is having more fun than me, like there's a party and I wasn't invited! However, I am kicking the habit of regretting my decisions or my situation in life, because what it is and who I am are good - and my specific set of circumstances are what I've deliberately chosen (I deliberately use the active word "kicking", by the way, meaning I used to habitually, and am actively working toward a place of no regret. The in-between is that exciting yet annoying period of intent where one works to improve unhelpful habits.)

I can live vicariously through my friend's experiences without feeling compelled to live them myself. There are many people who might be envious of what I've created for my life. I am learning to be one of them - appreciative and contented that I have enough ... for now.

The future might bring something different, but that's the future's problem.

This morning, I was running on the bike trail along the American River Parkway in the semi-fog, when the runners ahead of me suddenly stopped and pointed to where a deer was just completing a swim across the river, after which she jumped out and ran away. It got me to thinking - something I do a lot when running - about how rich each moment of our lives can be, regardless of where we are or what we're doing.

We create such stories in our heads about how things should be, and how being in that other place, with that other person, with those different circumstances yesterday, or two weeks from tomorrow, will be so much better than this very moment right now. It's crazy. How many people travel to exotic places, move to different cities, change jobs or relationships, hoping to find that sense of personal nirvana, but when they get there, they feel just as lousy as they did in their living room at home? Don't get me wrong - I'm a strong believer in what travel expert Rick Steves says about travel, that it is "intensified living" - at least it should be.

The point is that each moment is rich in its own unique way. And our charge is to find and maximize it. To find bliss and peace in the ordinary. I wrote about this kind of thing in my hub about Wabi-Sabi - the Japanese art of imperfect beauty.

I feel like it's taken me most of my 46 years to come to the realization that this place - this spot right here - is my intended place. And it is a good and admirable one. I have had a robust life - beautiful, loving, smart children, a warm family, good friends, a cute dog, a strong, successful career, good health that allows me to run better than most men 20 years younger than me. And there's no reason I can't continue to hold and built on that reality.

It's my choice, I am satisfied with myself, with the life I've created, with the strength and guidance of God and a lot of very wise and insightful people. And I know there are so many good and wonderful things ahead of me.

And yet I can still look on the adventures of my young friend as he travels the world, discovering new and amazing people and places. I can now look on his experiences and smile, happy and peaceful that he is exploring the world, broadening his perspective, and celebrating his blissfulness in a manner that allows him to be able to share it with others like me.

I've told my children that what's most interesting about getting older is not that you keep learning new facts and adding on more pieces of knowledge. My 15-year-old daughter is already studying subjects like Honors Biology that exceed what I ever learned on the subject. What you truly learn are as you mature are distinctions - things that you thought you knew before, but didn't understand them as well as now. Distinctions of things that are hard to put into words - you have to experience them. It's like seeing the same things you've always seen, but through a new lens - one that lightens your heart and strengthens your spirit. Makes you smile without reason.

The feeling doesn't stay permanently, because the next moment might bring problems. You know that from experience, but it no longer bothers you. Because right now is working.

And there is beauty and bliss in that magical understanding.