Waxing Philosophical

Tonight I ran by the light of an almost-full moon.

After a week of running in the evenings to the backdrop of storm clouds, orchestras of thunder and lightening, and winds kicking up the dust and stirring the humidity a bit, tonight the sky was clear and refused to hint of looming dramatics on the horizon. Last night I had to hide my keys under a rock for fear that one of the many lightening streaks in the sky might find my sweaty self. I tried to improve my chances by ditching the jingle-jangling metallic invitation to be struck. Despite ignoring a bunch of mom-taught-me-better warnings in my head, running with a storm approaching gives tremendous adrenaline behind each foot-fall. Waiting for the rain to fall and for the winds to cool down the night air has been an exciting distraction to my exercise outlet of late, and my pace has quickened in the thrill of it all. So tonight I found it strange to suddenly find myself running under a clear night sky, stars like pinpricks in a black canopy, dimmed by their neighbor the moon who shown down like a spotlight on me as I ran.

Most nights when I run, I run in darkness. I enjoy the sightlessness of track running because the black night fools me into thinking I'm running somewhere, along an interesting path that I just can't see clearly. It hides the reality of the series of circles I am truly running, like a hamster in a wheel.

Patrick and I have recently become hugely addicted to the TV series on DVD, LOST. Aside from the fact that it is an entertaining show full of suspense and one unanswered question after another, we can't help but draw some metaphors to fit our life these days.

We too are on an island. We too felt disoriented at first, not sure how to find food, drinking water (or rather ask for it using Kreole words that communicated our needs). We too have flashbacks to days before Haiti, walking and working in a world that made sense most of the time, that functioned under rules we understood. In hindsight, our past seems logical, predictable. Not at all like the present. We, too, were met by island inhabitants, and it took a little while for trust and friendship to develop (I think we have been more successful since we haven't employed guns, violence and paranoia into our island living). And just like some of the stranded survivors, we are coming to feel that we were meant to land here all along, that despite how absolutely unpredictable the future feels, that our past lead us here for the things we are to learn while living on this island.

But even more than the action and suspense the tv series offers, I appreciate the philosophical themes the show incorporates into the plot. As the story unwinds, the writers propose that events and encounters of life may not be as random as they seem. Concepts of fate and destiny color the lives of the characters whose past seems as interwoven as their present. At times you get the feeling that the characters are living lives that have been pre-destined, carrying out their duty or their part in the scheme of things.

No matter where we were born and under what doctrines we were raised, at some point or another, we as individuals have to reconcile some sort of peace with our understanding of the meaning of life and the workings of the universe. Some believe in fate, others random chaos. Many feel comfortable walking under the protection of a life designed by God's will, others embrace the idea of man-made destiny. If I'm honest, I'm still not sure what I think to be true, but I know some ideas ring more true to me than others.

I was reminded tonight, running around the track illuminated by the oh-so-honest moon that seemed to say, "wake up silly, you are running in circles. You can't pretend any longer" that I prefer to live thinking that I'm heading somewhere, ready to discover something new, even if the truth is that I'm passing the same point every 2 minutes. Like life, I guess I like to think that I'm forging somewhere for myself, making contributions to a cosmic consciousness, creating some sort of wave in the waters. I know that my actions and decisions are inspired by relationships, life experiences and divine inspiration. But if the truth is that I'm more of a rat on a wheel moving under the forces of fate because "that's what I'm supposed to do," well, I guess I'm less interested in such a reality, even if it does take some of the responsibility out of my hands.

My run tonight was shorter than others. I love the moon. I love a clear night sky and stars that hint of galaxies and mysteries far into the deepness of night. But I love when the moonlight reveals a path into an endless horizon. I am only so inspired when the moonlight uncovers magical, silvery details in the darkness and highlights the freedom within a mysterious night. Tonight, however, the moon was giving me WAY too much information about my destination-less run. It did inspire me to wax philisophical, and my legs couldn't keep pace with the workings of my thoughts, especially when it was clear I was "going nowhere".

What I love most about life is the mystery of it all. There are things we know to be true because we can see and touch them, others we trust to be true because of how we feel. Some of us believe things to be true for faith alone. Yet ultimately there are some big questions that will remain mysterious in this life at least, no mater how many stabs at the truth taken by philosophers, great thinkers, religious leaders, scientists or hollywood writers. I like the not knowing. I like the room for imagination. I like knowing that life is wrapped in mystery. Sometimes, like the plot of a well-written movie or tv series, little hints are revealed to us as we learn and experience and discover. Makes me want to tune in to the next new day, makes tomorrows worth living and death just an opportunity to have more questions answered. Even if the truth is that we are finite and nothing more. Puts a little suspense and adventure into our existence. And I'm just a sucker for that kind of entertainment.