I have been thinking about regrets; that often maligned emotion. In our 21st century media-driven obsession with projecting perfect, happy, successful, invulnerable lives, we often equate admitting regret with acknowledging failure and appearing weak.
I drove home from the appointment shell-shocked. At 46, I had just been told that I should never run again! It turned out that the back pain that had grown from a niggle to a whining complaint over the past twelve months was my spine letting me know that it had been invaded. Arthritis – advanced enough to be visible on a normal x-ray, – had taken up residence in my lower lumbar vertebrae (along with its companion – Spondylosis).
Continuing on our sojourn with purpose. Once we have established what it is and what it is not, (see my earlier blog post “Pondering Purpose“) How do we find it for ourselves? And what happens once we do? My answer to this won’t be pleasing to the young enthusiasts among you, but life has taught me that purpose is not like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
Pondering purpose and, more significantly, the lack of it. I am persuaded that the greatest threat to civilization today, is purposelessness. “Surely not,” you demur. “What about Islamic extremism, terrorism, human trafficking, alcoholism, addiction, greed”… the list goes on and on and on.
I propose that all these are symptoms rather than causes. They are the physical evidence of a far greater, hidden, internal malaise, affecting the entire body of mankind. And it is a malaise unto death.
Watching “Through the Looking Glass” last weekend with my daughters, I found myself eyeball to eyeball with Humpty Dumpty in full 3D roundness. Which reminded me of a time in my life when I felt a deep connection with that hapless egg.