Go Where Life Feeds You

Sunlight does not shine under cow patties.

This may sound frightfully obvious. But, as a professional contrarian, obsessive-compulsive problem-solver and champion of unlikely possibilities I am drawn to the underside of improbable prospects.

They seem to call to me, sing to me, like Homer’s sirens.

They intensify the adventure.

I imagine myself an alchemist on the verge of untold greatness. When I eventually make my unprecedented discovery, it will validate my inner conviction that magic is indeed found in the margins.

However, lately, I seem to be exploring the margins of despair, doubt and difficulty.

Shockingly, there does not seem to be a lot of magic turning up, yet.

During windows of lucid self observation, it is clear that I am channeling our deceased dog Wally, who used to bark at moving helium balloons, convinced of their dangerous character, duplicitous intentions and vast capacity for untold evil.

However he also chased balls, swam in the ocean and was joyous 99% of the time.

I’m just barking a lot.

Mostly, inside my head, although, my family might argue otherwise.

Wally acknowledged the incredibly scary balloons, but never let them get in the way of joy. Wally knew what fed him– balls, toys, love, bones– and he’d go there every chance he got.

I, on the other hand, carry the scary balloons around with me like a psychotic clown.

Go where life feeds you.

This is simple advice.

But not necessarily easy. At least not all the time. At least not when you have to burn up all the limiting thoughts and false beliefs that stand in your way. But, I’m doing it. Slowly. Sifting through my virtual cow patties .

Funny thing about cow patties, if you let them naturally decompose, they do an excellent job of fertilizing flowers and grass and all the things that provide great joy.

To go where life feeds you, you must figure out WHO feeds you.

Beyond Ben & Jerry’s.

There are those people who feed your spirit and those who don’t. Of course, we all exist on a spectrum and people can slide around depending on the day and situation, but we know who feeds and who doesn’t.

The trouble for me, is not knowing who’s who.

The trouble is wondering I am somehow at fault.

Wondering if perhaps my inability to come alive in the presence of certain people has more to do with my deficits than a simple lack of chemistry, common interests and life philosophy.

I am trying to burn up this false belief too, because it most certainly does not feed me. As I keep contributing to this ginormous bonfire of my own bullshit, I keep coming back to one fundamental core idea.

It is not our circumstances that keep us from joy.

It is only our thoughts about them.