I’m not sure if this is true, but I suspect I could figure most things out while sitting on a warm beach. A week wouldn’t do it. It’d probably take months, if not years, but eventually the constant crashing of wave against shore would scrub away life’s illusions.
An abundant supply of clear, mountain air could serve the same purpose. I could wrap up in a blanket, sit on a flat rock just above the cloud line, and pierce the proverbial veil.
Given enough time, either location would work. All I need is for my wife to agree to watch the kids for the next year or so.
I haven’t run the plan by her yet. I’m sure she’d say, “That’s nice, dear,” in that sweet way of hers.
Besides, I don’t like the feel of sand when it gets into the waistband of my pants, which is bound to happen.
A flat rock on a mountainside would get uncomfortable sooner rather than later, even with a cushion.
And I’d miss “Big Bang Theory” and the new season of “Mythbusters.” What if I’m not enlightened in time for college football season? Seriously, What then?
Maybe my tempting, bubbling thought about getting away from it all isn’t workable. I suppose that’s OK. I’m only human and realize not all of my ideas can be golden. The law of averages dictates at least a small percentage be merely silver.
But there is a sliver of something important in the desire to escape the world’s persistent demands. Clearly, I need to relax and let the little things go, if not the big things.
I sometimes reflect on the past few decades and wonder, Could I have made exactly the same choices without all the stress?
It’s a big question, especially since I can feel those accumulated worries in my muscles, bones and sinews. True relaxation would be a massive change going forward, no matter how much time remains on the invisible, ever-ticking clock that tracks us all.
I don’t really want to cast off my responsibilities in exchange for stress-free living. I couldn’t leave behind all the attachments that you’re supposed to leave behind, if you know what I mean.
According to one theory, relaxation attained outside life’s hustle and flow would be transitory.
Imagine a raging waterfall. Next to it is a tree with a nest, which holds a bird that’s sleeping despite the roar and rumble of water crashing into rocks below.
That either means I should seek what peace exists in the midst of everyday affairs, or combine my beach and mountain ideas and find myself a waterfall.
I probably should think this through some more. Luckily, I have time between now and the start of the next college football season.
M. Scott Morris is a Daily Journal feature writer. Contact him at (662) 678-1589 or email@example.com.