Pierini
Fitness is enjoying this time of year and this
should be his case for the remainder of the year. He has time to breathe and immerse himself in
the pleasantries of daily living, not burdened or toiled by the demands of an
overwhelming work schedule. That time has come and gone; thanks be to God.
There's time to be and not do, reflect and not decide, and smell
the roses of life at its finest rather than the stench of a rat race behaving like a dozen pit bulls circling endlessly chasing their tails.
While
the thrill of riding the giant roller coaster of work can be exhilarating when its commotion is in motion, there comes a time when the sereneness of being
still, like a calm lake on a hot summer afternoon mirroring an image of the sun
above, seems more desired of the two.
These
reflective “Kodak moments” are wonderful opportunities for Pierini Fitness getting to know himself better. Blogging about whatever
happens to be on my mind, middle-aged man reflections about
living and dying, gracefully-aging and trying to live a good and honest life, is
another venue of self-discovery.
I wonder, though, after 64 years of self-discovery, is there anything else
more to know about myself? Or, is my self-discovery never-ending, like climbing a mountain taking one-half step at a time, only to discover that this half-step cadence means I’ll never arrive at my destination?
Is the more I know the less I know myself? Is this also true for all middle-aged men around the world? Is it possible, in our lifetimes, we’ll ever know who we are, our authentic and true selves?
Are we destined to be, at best, a giant masquerade, wrapped in a veneer of external trappings – profession and possessions believed to be our joys and toys – wearing a costume with mask of a fictional character we’ve chosen when going about doing our doings in the world we live?
Is the more I know the less I know myself? Is this also true for all middle-aged men around the world? Is it possible, in our lifetimes, we’ll ever know who we are, our authentic and true selves?
Are we destined to be, at best, a giant masquerade, wrapped in a veneer of external trappings – profession and possessions believed to be our joys and toys – wearing a costume with mask of a fictional character we’ve chosen when going about doing our doings in the world we live?
Time
will tell when the truth is eventually revealed which may not happen
until the end of our lives on planet earth. Until then, maybe we should chant, as St. Augustine wrote in his classic The Confessions of
St. Augustine, “Thus I became a great riddle to myself.”
Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum
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