Need and Love

I’m not a big fan of machines.  I don’t identify with gears and pulleys and metal. 

With that said, an analogy comes to mind.  It seems our culture is becoming more and more an engine of sorts, fueled by runaway technology and cravings for privilege.  Collectively we have become One Very Large Machine which ultimately affects our personal identities as machine-like people bedazzled by, and addicted to, excess and technology.

This has become even more apparent since returning home from our visit to Mexico.  Perhaps I was too close to see it before, as if nose-to-nose with my own reality and yet cross-eyed without even knowing it.

In Mexico, I was inspired by the elemental joy of being.  By enterprise without overregulation.  By adventure and discovery, and the struggle for purpose and meaning.

Let me be clear. I like convenience, comfort, and safety.  I don’t hold up the lives of impoverished Mexicans as exemplary.  What I do mean is this: surely we who are culturally distanced can learn from each other.

My intent as I write these words is not to negate the power of the American Dream that cultivates ambition and advancement.  Rather, I ask a rhetorical question.  How can I live simply and well in the midst of all the contrivances and mechanisms, the enticements and appetites, the plastic gizmos and empty promises so prevalent in America? 

While pondering this today, I took a few steps outside the door into a softly falling April snow shower.  Shivering in the chill, I was greeted by a newly birthed, pointy hosta drilling through the earth.  It had speared last year’s dry oak leaves, making a statement: life perseveres.  Next to the hosta, mini-daffodil blossoms stood resolutely, sharing a bold affirmation while dusted with today’s untimely snowflakes: life matures in beauty and love. 

I can choose to carry on, as the hosta does.  To accept each season and situation, cultivate an attitude that recognizes and celebrates the scope of life, and willingly embrace phases of dormancy and vibrancy.  To own what is most simple and basic and true as mine. 

Like the daffodil, I can focus on living as God intended, honestly and in the moment, standing with spirit and resolve that embrace the beauty and purpose of existence, as well as the challenges that come my way.  I don't need to be a hot house plant.

It's true: I want to know the profound breadth and depth of life, to leave the fast-paced mechanics and see into the deeper heart of it.  This means stepping out from behind advancement and security, and whatever seems easier, more enjoyable, or more protective.  I want to explore the scope of human experience, to celebrate the common humanity of humanity and connect through the two things I experienced profusely in Mexico: need and love.