Ramblings on Clarity

You know what I miss? The clarity I once had that gave me the perspective to embrace the vision of my life's direction. I've found myself removed from my element as of late, as have I found myself being dragged into the whirlpool of stagnation modern societal life fosters. I've long since grown weary of the childish mental games people play. Indirection and deceit, insinuation and perfidy as well as double-talk and affectation are plagues of human interaction that persist, in my humble opinion, due largely to a distinct and widespread lack of perspective. Most people are so caught up with what is 12" in front of their faces that few ever take the time to step back and philosophize introspectively. Ask someone, anyone, what the five most important things to them in life are, and be shocked if they can provide more than two. They don't know what's truly important to them because they've never taken the time to think about it. I'd say that's a pretty critical thing to know, wouldn't you? Time doesn't pause while you concern yourself with the inconsequential opinions of others.

My current state of existence is what inspired the introspection I've translated over time into this essay. The last six months of my life have been, shall we say, less than productive, for reasons running the gamut. Initiated by a substantial failure then reinforced by setback due to injury, my collapse into idleness gained momentum as I fell prey to the lure of short-sightedness. I've found myself struggling to be direct and decisive, unable to find the perspective to pull myself out of the whirlpool of stagnation. For me, perspective has always been clarified by mental and physical stress in the extreme. I remember, clearly, the dynamic of exertion to exhaustion and the purifying emotional effect it produces. I remember, clearly, the oft-acute trial of running ultra distances through the high mountains. I remember how it felt. I remember, clearly, my feet burning as if on fire. My legs battered to painfully twisted knots. My heart pounding in my head like a hammer. The sweat pooling on the ground beneath me. I remember, clearly, the stifling fatigue so draining I couldn't see straight. The daunting prospect of many an unforgiving mile yet to run. The blood tainting the rocks and dirt as I find myself buckled to my hands and knees on the trail, attempting not to collapse completely. It's then that I look inward for direction. It's then that I think.

It's then that I remember. Enduring a task so formidable, so taxing, has a way of purging the extraneous and insignificant. I wouldn't quite call it healing; just reinvigorating, in a way. I remember why I'm there. I remember that practically no one else could hope to attempt the task I'd undertaken. I remember that practically no one else would want to. I stand back to my feet and breathe deeply, gazing into the valley far below. I remember why I push so hard, why I suffer, and why I come back time and time again. With life simplified to its most basic elements, I remember that ultimately, the petty emotions, the sophomoric drama and the pain, both physical and emotional, don't matter. Completion of the task at hand is simply a function of effort and time. Completing the task at hand becomes the only thing that matters. I remember that this is what I do. What I was meant to do. And that I'm rather good at it. A confidence and defiant pride the scale of which I cannot describe to you wells up from deep within me. My direction is no longer lost, but visibly defined and emphatically clear. My disposition is no longer shaky, but steadfastly anchored. My expression no longer pained, but defiantly sincere. A grin spreads across my face as I re-embrace the clarity that drives me with passion to be a cut above the rest. I remember how to get there. Brushing away the rocks and rubbing off the dirt, I start off down the trail with irrepressible conviction. Life will not be wasted this day.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep.
And miles to go before I sleep...
Miles to go before I sleep.

As far as I can tell, existence is an exercise in perspective. It is asinine to argue the fact that life should emphasize quality, not quantity. A life of only a few rich, purposeful decades full of depth and passionate experiences is far superior to a life of 500 hurried, meaningless or wasted years. The more you rush through the motions in an attempt to keep up with the frantic flow of society, the less attention you pay to the elements of life that matter. The more time you squander to the frivolous trends of the moment, the fewer grains of sand you find yourself left with when you finally stop to examine your life's fragile hourglass. Clarity is a product of tranquility and uncluttered introspection. The perspective it gives you is vital to a life spent well. I will once again find clarity and I invite you to join me. Your method may vary.