One of the central themes running through One Day One Life is that most people do not become unhappy because life is terrible. They become unhappy because life becomes familiar and we then start using people, places and things to try and make us feel better.
Our focus narrows and we concentrate on the quick fixes. We set up that old perfectionist bar, and just like the horizon, it is unreachable.
We adopt a world view of failure, and we stop seeing the real world.
We stop noticing the beauty and wonder of the people around us and cease being astonished by what is right in front of us.
The phrase “comfortably numb” captures this perfectly. It is not the agony of grief, failure, heartbreak or loss. Those experiences are intensely alive and usually the trigger, but comfortable numbness is far more subtle. It is waking up beside someone you love and no longer really seeing them. It is driving the same road to work and remembering none of the journey. It is eating dinner in front of the idiot box.. It is spending decades building a career and one day wondering where the years went. It is watching your kids’ cricket game while you scroll on Insta and Facebook.
Has life really become difficult or we have become ordinary through repetitive behaviour and we stop paying attention.
Western capitalism teaches us that happiness is waiting somewhere in the future. The next promotion. The next house. The next holiday. The next achievement. Yet while we are pursuing tomorrow, today quietly slips through our fingers.
We become numb because our minds are rarely where our bodies are.
The parent sits with his child but thinks about work.
The executive attends the meeting but thinks about the next meeting.
The retiree spends her days remembering yesterday or fearing tomorrow.
Hello, is anyone home? The paradox is that the wonder of life exists in the moment and if we go missing the magic does not arrive.
A child can spend twenty minutes fascinated by a trail of ants carrying crumbs yet the parent walks past a myriad of miracles without noticing one of them.
I’ve got another Bondi fix and it’s not joining the running crew or the reformer class. Go down to the beach before dawn and watch the sunrise over the water.
Look for the old couples holding hands; they are there!
Send a loving text message to a friend.
Follow the wagging tails of the Bondi dogs. Dogs get excited about doing a wee or crap!
Remember the final conversation you had with a loved one yesterday. Was it coming from a considered generous place? If not, ring back and make an apology.
Aaaahhh, relax.
My musing and writing often dances in the scolding flames of emotional honesty and truth: everything is temporary.
The people we love will die, as will we.
Our children will grow up and our bodies will age. (sigh, as he rubs his hips and back and knees and shoulders.)
Our careers will end.
Our homes will belong to someone else.
Even our memories will fade.
Yet instead of making life depressing, this reality makes it sacred.
The Buddhists of Northern Thailand understand this. The Christian mystics understood it. The old forest monks understood it. They all arrived at the same place.
Impermanence is not the enemy of beauty.
Impermanence is the source of beauty.
The sunset is beautiful because it ends.
The flower is beautiful because it fades.
The conversation matters because it cannot be repeated.
Today matters because it will never come again.
Let me ask a simple question:
‘If this moment never returns, am I paying enough attention?’
Wonder returns when we become willing to learn again.
When we approach our partner as though there is still something to discover.
When we don’t expect our elderly mother to be the person she was for us when she was younger.
When we walk without headphones or a mobile phone.
When we watch a child explain something important to them.
When we sit quietly under a tree.
The great irony is that we spend our lives chasing extraordinary experiences while the extraordinary is hiding inside the ordinary.
Yes, evening Monday morning can be cool.
Even that controlling, obsessed team leader can be a delight.
We are all life itself.
The question I stopped asking was; ‘David, how do I find wonder?’
I replaced it with; ‘Where am I overlooking it?’
For when all the striving, acquiring, achieving and worrying finally fall away, what remains is what was always there: a single day in a single life, and the invitation to meet both with curiosity, gratitude and awe.
