In Search of Significance

She sat next to me on the park bench,

warm morning sun

shining on her face.

She shared about a funeral she attended

where story after story was told

about an old woman who

lived life large

all over the globe

producing concentric circles of influence.

 

My friend said she wanted a life like that.

I asked, A life like what?

One of significance, she said.

Tears welled up

in both our eyes.

 

Isn’t that the fear that drives all fears?

The fear that prompted that first bite

so long ago?

The fear that undermines our motives,

daily interactions,

and haunts us on our death bed?

That fear that says being human is

Not

Quite

Enough,

where enough looks like significance,

and significance looks like being God?

 

You know, that glittering god

of perfection and holiness,

that we strive tirelessly to grasp,

as we meticulously check off the shoulds and musts,[1]

buying into the hype,

becoming a commodity

of the neo-liberalist machine called the Good Life,[2]

and thus, the antithesis of human,

or more simply,

and increasingly,

un-human,

whose fear driven endeavors

disintegrate into dust along with our

fleshly remains.

 

But what if significance is found in the small,

the still,

the silence?

 

What if significance

is seen in the baby that never takes a breath

but whose mother's breath held it

in her womb?

Or in the children who care for loved ones

working long hours for little pay?

Or in the widow who walks alone, eats crumbs,

but gives generously to the overworked children?

And in the man, a bed ridden mute

who exists in space and time,

wondering if there’s more than this place

and these people whom he’s dependent

upon for all things?

What of humans whom the world will never know,

names only spoken in the most minuscule of concentric circles,

mere pebbles dropped in shallow puddles

that eventually dry under the

glaring afternoon sun?

 

Does our significance not come from

our simple act of breathing,

where each exhale leads to dependance

and each inhale gives Life?[3]

 

How might our world look

if we stopped

fighting for that perfect inhale

in order to drive the Good Life machine forward,

and instead

allowed our bodies

to effortlessly exhale to the point

where nothing is left

but our anticipation of being filled

with Grace,

upon Grace,

upon Grace,

which transforms

us into the beautifully significant humans

we were created to be.

 

 

[1] Diana Renner and Steven D’Souza. Not Doing: The Art of Effortless Action. (London, UK: LID Publishing, Ltd, 2018) 108.

[2] Ibid., 97-98.

[3] Jer Swigart. 2020. “Inhale and Exhale…Which comes first and Why it Matters.” DMINLGP blog. Accessed September 20, 2020. https://blogs.georgefox.edu/dminlgp/inhale-or-exhale-which-comes-first-why-it-matters/.

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