Wow -- that's probably the most New Age'y blog post title I've ever inflicted upon cyberspace. But it fits with what I feel right now.
Which can be expressed in some other cliches that have run through my mind the past few days, when I've been pondering whether to consummate my passion for a Suzuki Burgman 650 Exec maxi-scooter that almost came to fruition last fall.
Live for the moment
Do it now before you're too old and can't do it
What's important is the traveling, not the destination
Having fun along the way is the way
Risk adds zest to life -- don't fear it
Having ordered a Burgman today, after canceling my order seven months ago, I want to get as much philosophical mileage as possible out of this semi-spendy purchase (big scooters are a lot less expensive than a car, and a lot more expensive than a bicycle).
I'm not interesting in preaching about the joy of motorcycling/ scootering. Some people are drawn to this activity; others aren't. Each to his own passion.
But we all have something that turns us on. And that thing is a link to the feeling of Oh, yeah!!! that washes over us when the turn on button has been pushed.
Follow that feeling. It's easy to deny it by speaking words inside our head like...
I'm being unreasonable
That isn't like me
What will ___ think?
It isn't wrong to think those thoughts. They need to be honored along with the feeling of passion. However, each of us knows the difference between being real and being fake with ourselves.
There are parallels between my churchlessness and my soon-to-be scooterness.
In each case, I knew where my Oh, yeah!!! sensation was pointing. But I used passion-squelching words such as the examples above to put a damper on the fire I could feel burning inside me.
Mystically, I'd read Zen, Eckhart, Chuang Tzu, or Plotinus and feel a non-dogmatic tingle run up my philosophical spine. For quite a while I tried to meld my passion for these mystic teachings with remaining a member of a religious organization with rather discordant beliefs.
Eventually the tension between being real to myself on the inside, and not reflecting that reality fully on the outside, became too great. I readily admit that I don't know the truth about the cosmos. But I do know what truly turns me on.
Philosophically. And motoring'ly.
I realized that when I thought about getting on two motorized wheels again (I had a small Honda trail bike in high school and college, and a mid-sized Yamaha motorcycle about fifteen years ago) I'd feel a sensation of Oh, yeah, that's me!
This isn't you. I'm me. You're you. I'm just saying that each of us, you, me, everybody, knows where our passions lie.
Maybe they're precisely reflected in what we're doing, thinking, and feeling now. Most likely, they aren't. Because for good reasons, and also for not-so-good reasons, we often trade passion for something else.
In the religious arena, hopefully our passionate being-real Oh, yeah's coincide with how we're expressing our beliefs in our life. If that isn't happening, a being-fake checkup is in order.
This afternoon, after handing over my VISA card to Cycle Country for a deposit on the Burgman, I spent an enjoyable twenty minutes or so talking with a knowledgeable sales guy about motorcycle jackets.
He showed me the ins and outs (shells, liners, rainproofing) of several TourMaster styles. In the process we chatted about the rewards and risks of two-wheeled riding, he naturally being much more knowledgeable than me.
I walked away with a warm sense of congruity -- that the inner motorcycling/ scootering me had taken a big step (with that deposit) toward getting in sync with the outer how-I-get-around me.
My churchless journey has been much the same. Getting real with myself. Eliminating fakiness when I find it. And most importantly: