Please be willing to consider that life isn’t some sort of elaborate game of musical chairs, wherein we all wanna stay real close to the chairs, for stability and security, as the game of life demands you keep moving and we just can’t plop down in a seat…then it’s not any fun at all… Life won’t let us stay still much, no matter how hard we try to plant ourselves somewhere. (And claim the game won, over, or absurd.) And so, some of us have convinced ourselves that the object of this game is to be as close to a safe fallback position (read: whatever the chair represents to you) as possible and still be ‘playing,’ ever ready, so that when the music stops—because that’s what seems to happen. The music stops or seems to and there’s a mad scramble, someone disappears from view, along with another chair. And so we’re left with a sense of scarcity, of there not being enough, and circling our chairs in distress and not delight.
so we move…hesitantly, reluctantly, nervously…then we amp it up and start competing, comparing, complaining…never far from the what seems grounding while we get dizzier and dizzier…
Meanwhile, and at the very same time, there are others moving to the music elsewhere on the dance floor, other than the section of chairs some of us have been growling about and still guarding fiercely, as if any other person dancing wants in on the game we’re dancing around.
The persons dancing elsewhere are a bit free-spirited…if you ask me. There is some curiosity amongst them though, a wondering of sorts as to when or if those souls around those chairs will look up and notice.
There’s a chair for everyone. An equal seat for each. Some were told otherwise. There’s the chance that if they’d notice that, then, they’d also notice that the real dancing and music never stops.
We’re co-creating both of them.
…individually, personally…yes…and together.