Bliss

In speaking of goals Steve Pavlina writes, “What determines the goals you set? The answer is your context, which is your full collection of beliefs about reality. You’ll always set goals congruent with your current understanding of the universe.” No argument here, for to me this statement is perfectly understandable and provides some answers for what is unfolding presently in my life.

Sometimes being able to grasp what’s really going on is simply a matter of living long enough: plain and simple. Through experiencing life there comes a point when all we’ve encountered reaches a mystical ‘critical mass’ or point and our eyes open up brighter than ever before. We begin to see clearly how our past shaped today and how our choices today will shape tomorrow. Things begin to make sense in a whole new way.

I’ve always been a firm believer one should always follow one’s bliss, but I couldn’t see clearly where this path would lead, how to stay on the path of my bliss, and the fact that sometimes we must close our eyes and walk in the dark trusting the path will rise up to meet us and never lead us astray. In my heart I’ve always known that music was my path but haven’t always trusted that everything was working congruously after all.

Now, in designing my intentions and in creating the collage I intend to manifest I feel a peace I’ve never experienced before. This peace is saying, “Be still and know.” I know now and yet it’s still all a mystery to me. I’m trusting with my heart instead of my mind.

My goals have all changed. Paradoxically I don’t want the same kind of success I longed for years ago. I know now that as I follow my bliss and stay true to my heart success will meet me halfway and in a way I cannot and should not expect. I am free, however to write any ending I choose knowing all endings are simply beginnings thinly veiled and in disguise. I’m glad it never ends.

“After all these years the warmth and glow of the fireplace in the old country cabin we call home settles our hearts and minds as nothing else can. We stare outside silently, mesmerized as the snow gently cascades onto our valley farmland. The only sounds breaking the stillness are a few notes I strum on the guitar and Cathy’s pen crawling across paper. It’s good we both have something inside us tonight, words and music longing to escape out into the world still.

I look to the mantle above the fireplace that is lined with photographs of our son, our entire family, each one gazing back at us and frozen in time. I love them all and I'm thankful for who they are and the happiness each has found as well as brought to me. I look over at Cathy and she turns her head in my direction to catch me softly smiling. She asks me what I’m thinking. I whisper back, "I love you.”"