The Greatest Mystery

“Fish or cut bait.”

“Stop whining.”

“If you don’t like your situation, do something to change it.”

“Cut the pissing and moaning.”

“Why don’t you count the blessings you have instead of moping about what’s missing?”

Sometimes we need a swift kick in the ass to get us moving again, to look at the white walls and decide that they don’t need to stay white forever. The sides of this rut are smooth and high, but there’s someone topside throwing a rope down, and tying the end around a thick oak tree. Take hold of the rope and pull yourself out, man. One hand over the other, left, right, left, inch by inch until you can see the light of morning again.

For the first few minutes after climbing out of the trench you dug you’ll probably stumble around some. Don’t worry, that’s normal. It takes a while to get your legs under you again. Stand up straight, reach for the sky. Decide then and there to suck it up and create the conditions you imagine. Suck the cool dawn air into your lungs and get started. Take a step, then another, it doesn’t take much courage and it gets easier the more you do it.

If you can’t believe in anything else, at least believe in the power of renewal. You can break any physical habit or turn of mind if you focus on it while you’re doing it. When Buddha was sitting under his tree, with that serene smile on his face, he wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, nor was a dialogue raging in his head. No, man, Buddha was controlling his mind, patting his thoughts on the head and sending them to bed. If you want peace, you’ve got to get quiet inside so you can hear the calm, compassionate voice of your higher self, rather than the incessant braying of your lower self. Think of it this way: the lower self is like Bill O’Reilly; the higher self is like Thich Nhat Hahn.

Humans can explore outer space and dive to the bottom of the sea, but the greatest mystery is still the self.