Letting go of the structures

Structures make us feel good, grounded, certain, safe. They help us make decisions without having to really consider whether they are going to bring us beyond the limits of ourselves, or trap us within. Sadly, the latter is the most common.

Structures come in all shapes and sizes. Sure, we all know the 'megastructures' of our physical world, including things such as buildings and houses, but also rules of behaviour set down by society/government: working hours, educational requirements, which side of the road to drive down, how to address each other, what's appropriate attire for a specific event, how to pray, etcetera.

Then, there are the individual structures, those which we have built around ourselves in order to have a certain order in life: the people we spend time with, the kind of music we listen to, where we live, our jobs, how we evaluate others' actions and our moral code, what is a reasonable aspiration, and so on.

The question is whether we need all, or any, of those structures.

I am not advocating total anarchy here, though some might choose to do so, and that's fine by me - that's their choice. What I am calling for is a return to the Self, rather than continuing life according to Id. Certainly, some structures I'd like to see followed (to avoid being run over when crossing the streets, for example), although whether those should include most individual structures, I am dubious.

The thing is, I have recently had my structures shaken and beaten like olive trees at harvest time and, d'you wanna know what? Painful as it has been, having them removed has not killed me. In fact, I can vow that the pain was more from the structures' fear at being destroyed, than of my real Self being divested of them.

Which structures am I keeping, to take along for the journey? Well, I do honestly think the one single structure I will not give up is my people: the network of friends and family who near or far have proven vital, strengthening me along the way, supporting and loving me - and I'm keeping the ability to contact others, value and cherish technology (to a point). The second is my creativity, both of my structures and that which I love. And the third? The third is my will to build up structures, and then let them go when they serve me no longer, despite the wrenching pain.

How many structures could you give up today? How many would you give up?
Why not take a leap of faith? Why not trust what you can create?

Let go...

Of children and hills

Children have no real innate fear. We should learn from them.

I was sitting on a hill in a park in Bristol, quite pleased with myself for being where few others were (most people were lying down on the flatter parts, enjoying the sun). Then, to my right, a young boy appeared. And then, his bother did too! They waited until their mother went around the hill and then, zooooom!! Ran right down the pretty steep slope. They had so much momentum, they would cross the path to partly climb the opposite hill before they could stop themselves.

And there was my head going 'oh, dear, oh, dear, careful...' But then I realised that, if they had thought they had to be careful, they would not have been able to run so safely, surefooted and upright. How often do we heed the warning, and mess up as a result?

Well, I don't know about you, but in my case, way too many. That's not to say I've spent my life as a hothouse plant, rather that sometimes I am aware I could have done so much more if only I had just ran down the slopes in front of me. Being careful is not bad, of course not; being too careful, however, is crippling. There are myriad things which can go wrong at any given moment, but living according to their dictates rather than our own passions is a recipe for mediocrity.

I'm trying to relearn to be brave enough to face the slope, feel the thrill, and nevertheless go for it. I might get a grazed knee, or maybe I won't.

How, but trying, can we know?