Limited Infinity
Finding satisfaction in an infinite universe
He shovels food into his mouth as if his hunger and his bowl are bottomless. Food spills over his lips as he opens his mouth to fit more in. The bowl is empty before his brain realizes he’s eaten. He serves himself another helping, filling his bowl once again, never satisfied.
A television commercial plays to an empty room behind him. “You’ll wonder how you ever lived without it,” urges the announcer. “Don’t wait! Supplies are limited! Order yours now!”
The guru teaches him, “The universe is teeming with infinite everything. Attract that abundance to you, and you shall never lack.”
To lack is to lose in this game of abundance. A game promoted as the only way to live, where winning is dying with the most, and only then will you feel satisfied. In an abundant universe there is no need to settle; attract more, manifest more, find more, make more, consume more, live more. In his meditation he imagines spending a dollar while two more appear in its place. How much less he values the one when he knows two more are coming. He has bought into this myth of deficiency.
A life worth living is not subject to limits. Every effort is in pursuit of freedom from constraints that might limit his experience to accumulate, to own, to dominate. He competes; dog eat dog, survival of the fittest. He is master of this game. No one, nothing, can stand in the way of his belief, nor does he even question why he believes it. Questions create limits.
His desire grows attempting to alleviate his gluttony. Until the delusion breaks from the physical strain on his body.
The room is quiet. Lying on his back the bed feels unfamiliar, yet comfortable. His awareness shifts to his body, depleted yet full. He feels a calm; like the tranquility at the bottom of a deep breath, peaceful, unhurried for the next inhale.
A steaming bowl and a spoon wait beside the bed. The aroma of chicken soup draws him to full consciousness, and he opens his eyes. He slowly sits up and reaches for the bowl. Drawing the bowl to his nose, he inhales the herbaceous seasoning. It reminds him of his mother. Lowering the bowl to his lips, he quietly sips, just a little. The silky broth bathes his mouth. The savory flavor swims with rosemary, sage, and fat. Oh, the fat; just enough. He swallows and takes a long breath, such simple pleasure. He sips again, this time a little longer, tasting, then swallowing.
A feeling of gratitude rises in him; thanks for the person who placed the bowl there, appreciation for the person who made the soup, acknowledgement for the chicken. He picks up the spoon and dips it into the bowl, retrieving a chunk of meat, a carrot slice, and a small wedge of celery. He carefully places it in his mouth. The flavors slowly blend as he chews. He chews some more, until he can no longer distinguish chicken from carrot from celery. Only then does he swallow, leaving a delightful coating in his mouth. He licks his lips to extract every last bit of flavor and takes a deep breath. Pausing until he is certain the time is right for the next spoonful. Two more times he repeats this deliberate process. Then without questioning, he knows he is finished, for now. He sets the remaining soup aside and savors the memory of eating. A memory that surprisingly satisfies him for longer than he expects.
Fatigue again returns; heavy, limiting. He closes his eyes and sighs with what appears to be contentedness.
A long forgotten memory fills his awareness. As a sick child, a fever kept him home from school one day, a valid excuse to escape scholastic pressure. It was shameful relief. Now, that same feeling of relief rises up in him along with that familiar choking feeling of shame. So comforting is this feeling of relief. Why the shame? He dominated the game of accumulation.
It was the game that broke him not his inability to play. Could the game be flawed? He is startled by this admission, but more relief quickly follows with a long-forgotten sense of ease in not needing to do anything. A tear rolls down his cheek.
There’s something beautiful about living in an infinitely abundant universe where the true way to feel satisfied is through thoughtful limitation.
That’s enough about that, for now.
Thanks for reading all the way to the end. I appreciate you. Leave me a tip if you appreciate my writing. :)
well done - the true way to feel satisfied is through thoughtful limitation. That says it all.