Progression

"I thought we went along paths -- but it seems there are no paths. The going itself is the path." -Perelandra

 

When I moved into my first house one of the side paths to the backyard was severely neglected. The hinges of the gate were loose, odd plants were overgrown and leaves from more than one Fall were scattered about. Clearing it out took nearly a whole day. Eventually I bought some pavers intending to make a better path. Intending, that is. Soon the coldness of Winter came, then long work hours in the Spring and finally fatherhood in the Summer. I believe those pavers sat idle for about a year and half before they were finally laid in their intended spot. And that was only the beginning of the path. There was still over 25 feet to go.

After that experience I changed my approach a bit. I bought fewer pavers each time so I could lay them in a single day (leaving none idle). I would add a yard to the path, then maybe a month or so later another couple feet. Eventually I was able to store all of my trash and recycling bins along that side of the house (a major goal of mine) and later a rain bucket for the gutter-less part of the roof. But when we moved out last year the path was unfinished — about five feet left unpaved between the gate and the last of my pavers. I don’t know if anybody noticed but me. Neither realtor said anything, the buyers didn’t seem to care and once we had closed and departed I let it go too. But I do think about it from time to time.

What’s strange about it, and why I still think about it, is it wasn’t laziness that left it unfinished. I was very meticulous each time I worked on it and found enjoyment in setting each brick neatly against the earth and the previous paver. Nor was busyness a problem. I could have scheduled the time (I did want to finish it). No, when I look back on it now, that gap of soil I left between the gate and stones, my conclusion is that life is simply much bigger than anything I can orchestrate. I’m not going to get to it all.

That idea of orchestration, of planning, of setting a path forward does have its merit and value. And yet, when I recall the poet David Whyte’s words “What you can plan is too small for you to live,” when I think of the teacher James Finley frequently saying “You couldn’t have planned it if you tried,” when I remember the late John O’Donohue muttering the phrase “your identity is not equivalent to your biography,” when I recollect trumpeter Miles Davis insisting “I'll play it first and tell you what it is later,” and when I consider the very progression of this sentence, the improvisational characteristics of the day-to-day at home, at work, in relationships, in dreams, in hobbies, in life seem to be a stronger driver than the plans we have. Each day is less a course of action and more a journey of response.

What I do secretly wonder is did the new owner’s decide to finish the path I started or leave it as is. How did they respond to the work I had started? But, frankly, that’s not any of my business. What is my business is how to thoughtfully respond to what is in front of me right now. The vibrancy of life is not found in working to make things fit some idealized orchestration, but in gently improvising with the progression we are all creating together. That, I believe, isn’t too small for anyone to live.

May you find the wisdom to hold your plans loosely. May you have the agility to respond to the unpredictability of each day. May you not be preoccupied by the paths you have left unfinished but instead emphasize the going itself. And may you, my friend, always be able to improvise in the progression ahead.

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