It's Cyclical Until It's Not

As life goes on, a large assortment of skills and character traits float into place. In the first quarter of Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, our leading character stops at this way station just before heading to the moon. The station's shape is shaped like a wheel with an axis that stretches out to another wheel. The station is pretty much entirely complete, painted with an astronautic grey, it spins slowly in space as Blue Danube Waltz accompanies the floating dance. Compartments, tunnels, offices, restaurants, call stations, and more fill the inside with particular order, creating a seamless balance between function and architectural grandeur.

As I’ve been reflecting on lessons learned these past few weeks I felt, for a strange prolonged second, balance. As if I had once again floated right past it, but this time I was actually looking out the window to notice it. It’s difficult to describe but a circle came to mind. I felt maybe I had connected what I was doing to what my intentions in life were. What I was letting go of and what I was taking on felt more aligned, and rather than thinking of circles as cyclical behavior, I was creating this circular foundation with everything I needed to float confidently toward Jupiter and beyond the infinite. Acting, writing, the growth of my individual self, spirituality, the growth of my relationships, and beyond. Kubrick’s imagery only solidified that my circle wasn’t alone but in fact, carried 3 parts. psyche, connected to the soul, connected to the external physical self. As the space station floats around seemingly aimless, you realize that some sections on the wheels are missing, and bare. Only railing that completes the shape itself but leaves an impression that something soon will fill the spot.

It seems allegorical to the shapeless puzzle of life, but in this instance, with a bit of shape. Removing pieces that fit, some that don’t, some that do fit but don’t go with the picture, others that don’t fit but make the picture better, Letting you know there are no rules. We’re constantly taking away and putting on, trying on, trying without. Sometimes less is more, sometimes less is less. Yet, when you find a few pieces in a row that connect to your vision the feeling is indescribable. It is the quietest and most subtle win, only to be seen either in retrospect or still and grounded consciousness. You can’t be looking for it but you do need to be listening. If missed it will leave forever, only coming back in a different shape.

I began running again a few weeks ago. I’m aiming to keep consistent at no less than 10 miles per week. I offered to run with my friend the other day who just got back from running the Chicago marathon and PR’d about 6 minutes. He and I were both sore, one more than the other having just gotten back from Chicago, the other just coming back from a leg day at the gym that morning. We garnered good company together for the run that night. I failed to ask him how far we were going to run and only found out later that we were to go 6 miles. Mind you, my naivety was ready for whatever, but 6 miles was definitely tough especially right after my leg day. I had every opportunity to stop and run less, but I wanted to reach this new goal and push myself further. I succeeded in completing 6 miles with an outstanding 8:06 pace, stopping only to cross a street, and at the halfway mark for my friend to say to me “flat tire” stopping and bending over to tie his shoe.

Running is an example of just one of my recent positive replacements in life, a micro change that’s creating a macro change. Just a few miles every week and the compartments begin connecting to one another. Running connects to my writing, to my sleep, to an acceptance of time taken and given, which leads to an acceptance of not going as fast as I feel I want to, which teaches me I don’t need as much caffeine, which then I sleep better with less caffeine in my system, and perform better as a whole in my day, as opposed to a quick sprint and burst of energy. Just a few miles every week, along with the gym, and I’ve begun to solidify my tangible physical body creating a far stronger foundation. One that floats rather than thrusts.

As that lonely wondering way station continues turning and floating there are things on their way, things orbiting hoping to find its reception. As I live, I never really know when things may strike me, I never know how, or why. Maybe I’ll find out when it hits if it’s not too late. Sometimes I notice. Changes occur to me in life by gaining consciousness of the item in which I wish to change, and then I keep trying to catch it as it orbits around myself. Sometimes I do. It’s cyclical until it’s not.

In the meantime, all I can really do is continue working on my station with great joy. Waiting for some things, working toward others, floating all the same. Inviting guests in, tearing down parts of an old model to build anew. Destructing, reconstructing, trying with and without. Looking out the window to see if I can’t catch the solitary satellite as it orbits around me asking for reception. patient, with a single goal of changing everything. It’s cyclical until it’s not.

Much love today and every day,

Matt Piper 🐅🌱