One of the advantages of accumulating a fair number of decades of life experience, still reasonably intact in the main, is the ability to reflect upon and seriously consider what one has endured and accomplished over the course of those decades. As I now traverse the early days of my eighth decade, I suppose that I have broken through from time to time, and in spite of my natural human frailty and limited life-enhancing skills in the areas that I have been working on for years now, I still feel strongly that I have lived through and through.
When life challenges me or seems to work against me, I know on some level that it’s up to me whether I succeed or not, in spite of Life’s occasionally adverse circumstances. Life just is—Life becomes—Life erupts into the temporal world, and most often is sustained for a time, at least long enough for experience to teach us and for memories to form. We suppose sometimes that we may not be able to affect changes, when, in fact, regardless of the circumstances, changes will ultimately come, so why not press for change on our own terms?
At some point we must choose, and when we do, a whole new set of circumstances might prevail, which may require further lessons, and could precipitate unexpected outcomes. Admittedly, some of my choices over the years have been insufficient to significantly alter my course in ways that were especially beneficial, and occasionally it seemed to me that I appeared to be going backwards as opposed to moving in a helpful direction, but through it all, somehow, I was able to endure, and was ultimately able to choose what I felt was a life affirming direction—to retire from the relentless primary daily grind of generating income, and to resume the work I waited so long to pursue—work that had been set aside repeatedly throughout the half-century of full-time jobs and the child-rearing years.
I remember well the precise moment I knew that it was finally going to become my new reality; when all of the criteria I had kept in my head had aligned and come to fruition. I felt almost giddy as I prepared to announce my decision, even as I knew that it would mean giving up everything that I had built up in status within the organization, and the lingering expectation of remorse if I had somehow misjudged the moment. Even so, the uncertainty still felt like a breath of fresh air, and I approached the experience with a surprising aura of calm.
My heart and soul came quickly alive in the moment, and pressed me to negotiate with my mind to remember just what it was I was trying to accomplish. As this change approached in the weeks and months before, this inner conflict had begun to occur with alarming frequency, and I could not simply ignore the confusion that came along with it. As I traversed the roads to my destination during this time, I usually felt the pain I had endured for years returning once again also; forcing me to once again recognize that I somehow hadn’t quite rid myself of it. It felt as though it was going to be painful as long as I had a breath left in my body, and I could not seem to dissuade my heart and soul from reminding me of it occasionally.
In the next episode of my consciousness video series, I will attempt to articulate a portion of this inner conflict as it relates to my work here at John’s Consciousness, and through a recounting of my many encounters in the mountains and forests, as well as my experiences of the change of seasons, to address a key element of the inner evolution so vital to our humanity. As Emerson so aptly put it:
“I went into the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not when, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”
In a few weeks we will be once again venturing out into the forest in our camper for an extended stay in the woods of our home state, and I’ll be working as well as relaxing throughout the trip in an effort to create something of value to share.
***more to come***
John's Consciousness 
Yes, similar thoughts at my end. And an increasingly simple life which seems to make reality very much clearer in my mind. Would that I could spend time in the woods but even so I am taking great pleasure in almost any outdoor activity. I took my push scooter to St James Park on the underground and scooted round Buckingham Palace through to Hyde Park where I sat in peace and contemplated. I have come, like you no doubt, to realise how little matters and how little I need. Certainly not grand palaces or expensive goods.
Clearly, the emphasis we applied in our youth was influenced by the sociocultural trends of the day, and while my own pursuits were largely dictated in large part by the necessity of supporting my gaggle of six children, in the later years of full-time employment I began to receive a number of opportunities which were both challenging and enriching for me in ways that informed my writing efforts, and sowed the seeds which I now tend with great satisfaction.
My recent sojourn into the state forest was filled with meditative sessions in splendid relative isolation during the week, enjoying moments of immense quiet in the early morning hours, participating in only those activities of my own choosing, prolonged hours of contemplation while most other campers were fast asleep, and frequent thoughtful reflection by the nightly campfire. I thought of you often throughout my travels, wishing I could somehow allow you to share in the splendid peace and serenity that only seems to be available these days for me when I venture out into the remote forest locations provided by the state park systems all along the eastern seaboard here.
I’ve been working on the next episode of my consciousness video series for some time now and this latest trip provided some additional resources to round out the theme of contemplation and reflection surrounding both the seasonal changes in nature and in our human experience, as well as the importance of allowing ourselves to find a place where each of us can “sit in peace and contemplate,” especially now as the circumstances in the world around us seem to be swirling and chaotic.
I must admit that it seems increasingly challenging to gather our equipment and to “set up shop” in the wilderness areas we visit, but the rewards are so great that I somehow continue to marshal the energies needed to do so. Our resources are modest, to be sure, but for now, suffice in the spirit of your realization of “how little matters,” and “how little I need.”
In reading your comment, I was reminded of the Amish saying that “We are too soon old, and too late smart.” It’s never too late really as long as we have life and don’t wait too long to get to it.
Warmest regards….John H.
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Its funny how all the paths lead home.
It’s a given, I think, that we don’t usually appreciate the broad spectrum and scope of life generally, until such time as we encounter the undeniable facts of life, which may include the realization that what we are often seeking in our travels is actually a path to home.
Home is where the heart is…and it can be anywhere our heart sends us, or where we feel most at home, regardless of the geographical location.
I am so glad you are posting again on your blog and look forward very much to reading your thoughts again.
Warmest regards…John H.