On The Path

I’ve been feeling serene lately.

Serenity hasn’t been something that lasts for me. It comes and goes in cycles. Eventually, I fall off the path, because anger, impatience, love, over-analyzing, are all habits of mine. Habits that resurface when I let my guard down.

The goal now is to keep the serenity going. The hardest part is the fact that I have to be conscious in my attempt. It’s a constant work in progress, and something I can’t stop working on, lest I fall into the trap of my old self again. I’m hoping that eventually, I’ll be able to make this into a good habit, and this peace will come on its own.

So often, it’s hope that gets me through. But I have no need of hope, or closure, or justice anymore. None of that matters. Life is what it is. I’m starting to let go of everything I used to hold dear.

9 comments

  1. I think you hit the nail by the head when you say “I have no need of hope, or closure, or justice anymore. None of that matters. Life is what it is.”

    I don’t understand your saying “I’m starting to let go of everything I used to hold dear.” When you’re on the path of serenity, shouldn’t you be letting go of whatever that’s in your way? What’s so dear about them?

    • I never used to think of these things as being in the way of serenity. I used to hold loyalty dear, and believe strongly in justice. Perhaps this could be considered Confucian. For example, I completely understand the importance of tradition, even though I didn’t believe in it.

      There’s serenity to be found in both Taoism and Confucianism. What works for me, however, is a different story, and I’m still learning as I go along.

  2. “I’m starting to let go of everything I used to hold dear.”

    In a good way? I could see it being good if the rigidity of what you hold dear was holding you back in some ways. But the tone of it sounds melancholy.

    • It’s in a good way, yes. But at the same time, there is that melancholy aspect to it, because I feel like I’m losing a bit of myself. I used to pride myself on quixotic ideas, and I think that was a part of me. Now I’m changing. Even though I know that pride is useless, and that we should shed old parts of ourselves like skin, I still feel like it’s the result of bad experiences that have made me more cynical. And I don’t like that.

  3. @Jeff: How would your pov change if you thought “Life is what I make of it” (more of a participant pov).

    @Joe and Tiana: To me, your comments were as equally profound as Tyler Durden’s philosophy – “It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.”

    • There’s definitely a balance as to what one can do and what is out of one’s control, because I don’t believe it’s one way or the either. I’ve experienced both ends of that spectrum in the last year. Right now, I’m just trying to figure out a middle ground.

  4. The last sentence sounds both content and defeated at the same time. Is it possible?

    I agree with Tiana, perhaps everything in which you placed value held you back too tightly themselves, and in the act of letting go, you open yourself to better things; open and vulnerable, the many good things can find you that might not have found you before.

    Contentment is understanding and acceptance and love of what happens to you in the present, without trying to grapple with the reality of what it is. It is gratitude for what occurs as it occurs.

    • There’s definitely both hope and sadness when letting things go. You’re absolutely right when you say, “Contentment is understanding and acceptance and love of what happens to you in the present, without trying to grapple with the reality of what it is.” That pretty much sums up my life right now.

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