I have a framed poem by Robert Frost on my desk, presumably a gift from my grandfather, which he dated 1981. Just so happens to be the year of my birth, so I feel a connection to it. My grandfather was a brilliant man and I always feel a connection to him, even nearly 26 years after his passing.
The poem is Escapist – Never
I won’t reproduce it in full here, but it is readily available in many places online.
I have read it a thousand times over the years, it has been a constant presence. And it was only until recently that I recognized it captured my first 44 years of life.
The incessant quest for success, but never finding satisfaction in it
The devotion to educating others and equating my value with my standing and ability to do so
Striving for objects in the physical world that I do not have
Wanting to be something else I am not, or possess things I do not have
Seeking God outwardly rather than within
From the poem:
“He seeks a seeker who in his turn seeks”
I have been reading This Thing Called You by Ernest Holmes, which was a suggestion given to my wife while she was pregnant and set to deliver our first child. I was right there while my wife home birthed him in a hypnotic state (by choice) with no anesthesia, which should have been a clear indication to me of exactly how powerful our Mind and Spirit are. Of course, I waited far too long to do anything with that information.
From the book:
“That which I seek is seeking me.”
The difference between the two is a level of reciprocity that I find to be comforting. You can chase all you want, but what is of value is right there within. It isn’t a linear path to a tap on the shoulder of someone who you caught after a feverous chase, but a beautiful lemniscate that connects heart to heart where you did not have to move a muscle. It is a recognition that the light isn’t at the end of the tunnel to be pursued, rather, it is already shining on you.
The “interminable chain of longing” must be broken in order to grow. That is a choice. Where you need to be is now. The Spirit, which seeks, is incomplete without you.