We have quickly absorbed the impact of the Burma holiday. The last days in Yangon were pleasant, and we made it back safely to OZ, as planned, although after a physically and mentally draining return trip. PEOPLE WITH SMALL CHILDREN: beware of cheap airlines, like this one. They offer you low prices, but once on board, they will make you pay even for a glass of water for your children. Plus, you'll be squashed in a tiny space, with no bassinet nor entertainment. But hey, it's cheap.
Anyway, we are now back to our pleasant and protected life by the beach, hoping not to be still incubating scary tropical diseases. It's been good to return to the comfort of Western life (though we never really abandon that in Myanmar). I suppose it's just good to be able to drink tap water, without worrying about typhoid.
Energised by the recent adventures, for the past few days I have been embracing the Just Do It principle. It doesn't mean I've been buying Nike stuff: rather, I have been fighting one of my arch-enemies, i.e. the "Why?"-question.
"Why doing it?". What's the point of getting up very early in the morning in order to meditate, go for a run, write, or study 18th century German Idealism? This kind of questions will always defeat me because, although all these activities might be pleasant and, overall, beneficial to myself, the question is "Why now? Why not tomorrow or later?". And there is no winning reply to that, my friend, unless you are Horace and live every day as if it was the last one.
I think we tend to ask the "Why?" question more and more as we age, because we get tired of things. There's just so much crap going on in our normal days, stuff that we cannot avoid (work, screaming kids, screaming wives) and we take that as an excuse to not do the things that we enjoy, but that require energy, time, and some kind of perseverance. I'm not gonna get faster if I run only when I feel like doing it; I am not, eventually, coming to control my sea-wandering mind if I don't meditate every day; nor will I ever grasp the influence of Kant and Fichte on Hegel's philosophy, without regular engagement with whatever the hell they have written.
So, at 5.30am (ish), I just get up. It's out of reach for the kids, in most cases. Which gives me a safe 45 minutes to drink my coffee in the silence of the Australian sunrise, and then meditate. Then, on alternate days (and subject to family mechanics on the specific day), it's either run or study. I have done it for a few days, so there's nothing to celebrate as of yet. But it is a very welcome change, and I hope to turn it into a hexis.
I think this all goes back to the need for a man's cave.
No comments:
Post a Comment