Far From The Roots

Where is it that you want to go?

Not the obvious things. Not work. Not taking the children to school. Not the practical list that fills a calendar.

Where you want to go internally. Where you want to arrive by the end of the day.

Every human being wakes up already going somewhere. And every reaction during the course of a day is already predisposed by that conviction. The one that was there from the moment they woke.

For someone who feels stress at work and with kids, where they want to go might be release at the end of the day. Food. Out with a friend to let it out. Alcohol. Whatever it is.

Human beings rarely ask themselves, where is it I want to go?

And this question is not as easy to answer as it sounds. It is very deeply nestled.

Saying “I just want a peaceful end to the night,” or “I want to get these things done at work so I can rest,” or “I’ll work hard for the next few months and then go on holiday.” That is a browned leaf at the edge of the tree. Far from the roots. Relatively insignificant next to what is actually going on.

In your deeper interiority there is something with a really strong conviction. One that is, by now, particularly for adults, largely unquestioned. That conviction is the root. It is driving the vehicle of your life experience.

If, during the course of a day, I hear something I do not want to hear. Someone is unkind, or I open an email that carries a significant impact, finances or otherwise. There is a dis-ease in the system. Stress. Turmoil. Anger. Anxiety. Overwhelm. Things we all recognise.

Those emotions can still arise from the news itself. But the intensity of the emotion, and the internal conflict that comes with it, is often several times greater than the news alone would warrant. Ten, twenty, a hundred times more intense.

I came to see that this happens for one of two reasons. Often both.

The first is that the external communication interrupts where I want to go. My destination is peace, or relief, at the end of the day, and this news says there is no way I can be at peace now. So the evening needs more of whatever releases me. Another meal. Another drink. Whatever the pattern is.

The second is that the news is in complete conflict with where I want to go. Not only does it interrupt the destination. It asks me to change direction entirely. A problem with an apartment. A tenant. A loved one saying something unkind. The whole evening is out. The destination is not merely delayed. It is opposed.

The destination is not really a moment in time. It only presents itself that way. It is the drive underneath the whole day. And often, the later in the day it is, the stronger the emotional impact, because the buildup toward that destination has been growing since morning.

Seeing this invites, at the very least, one exploration.

Where is it I want to go from the moment I wake up?

Once you know what that is, you can begin to see what your choices are actually serving. Because that “where I want to go” is very likely being driven from a world you grew up in, one where you had much less agency and choice than you do now.

Because it is automatic, everything you try to do as an adult to steer away from that destination will bring internal conflict all by itself, let alone hearing something from the outside world.

That, for me, is a powerful opportunity.

Agency. To see what is already driving the day. And to be through it, not by forcing a new destination, but by finally looking at the one that was already there.

The questions are here, if you want them.