I write nightly about my life in the world of “our Arcadia.” These threads of life are what weave the fabric that is the backdrop for The Arcadian Experience. But the sad truth is that some days you hit a snag, that there are holes in the fabric that no patch can mend.
The choice we’ve made to be here, in this place, living an authentic life, is hard. Our little paradise isn’t always full of sunshine and roses. Some days it feels like we’re being forced to eat a turd sandwich, and it’s hard to swallow.
Some days it’s hard to overcome the unintended consequences and obstacles that accompany living here. We are here freely; it was a conscious decision. But some days I have to fight like hell to remind myself that I picked this life; we
chose it on purpose.
Some days I have to question if it isn’t this life, then which one would I trade for, and the answer is none of them. This is the life I have.
I have to believe that the Almighty has his hand on the compass and that we are being pointed in directions that will make sense later. I have to believe that things happen for reasons I can’t possibly fathom.
Some days it is hard to find meaning in despair and you wonder what you did to “deserve” this. Then I know, even before I am fully reconciled with the notion, that “deserve” has nothing to do with it. And things just happen, the way that they happen.
The great American poet, Robert Frost wrote, “In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.” There are no truer words than that.
But some days words are hopelessly inadequate. And today is one of those days.