It is tremendously challenging to be mindful and not become discouraged now and again.
The heroes of many novels are men of character, with iron wills and impeccable moral compasses. They are robust, infallable, pursuing justice with unwavering focus. But these are men of fantasy only. They lack dimension. They frequently lack passion. They are caricatures.
Willa Cather was a champion of capturing the small acts of intention that differentiated men and women from their neighbors. Her portraits of flawed and frail humanity are compassionate but unflinching, so that one can love the wild child thoroughly yet understand, and accept, her failings.
In these stories, somewhere between the unrealistic and the honest is a shared thread: isolation. The stalwart hero stands alone with his sense of honor. The wild child is an outsider because her passions are foreign to her community.
Is the message, then, that living a life of intention is isolating?
Isolation doesn’t reconcile with Connection, and most of us require connection of one form or another in order to both remain healthy and continue to discover our potential. And for some of us (including myself) connection is a source of the energy we require, in that we must give out some warmth and on fortunate occasions receive warmth in return.
Are we then condemned to half a life when we choose to live mindfully?
This question resonates with me this morning.