Between the Horizons
If you were standing on the edge of the ocean and looking out over a calm sea; how far is it between you and the horizon – that line that marks the edge of the world?
The precise answer is based on some crazy mathematical formula including square roots and the height of your eyes from the ground, but the approximate answer for a person 5’8” (can you guess my height?) is 3.1 miles. But here’s the weird thing about horizons, no matter how fast I travel it will always be about 3 miles away. Like the elusive pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, horizons are always out of reach, retreating backward as I progress forward, revealing to me in measured amounts all that I need to take in.
Can you imagine if the world really was flat? I mean so flat that with enough optical amplification you could actually see to the edge of the world? Wouldn’t that be weird? How uninspiring it would be to know the outcome before we began our journeys of life, love, work and living. What a blessing that life holds surprises for us at every crest.
Many people I meet are seeking an answer beyond their horizon; wishing their life away for an answer about tomorrow that seems more important than today. Others plant themselves firmly in the “good ol’ days” resigned to the “fact” that nothing will ever live up to what has already been. The life behind the horizon of the past is familiar and comfortable. The life that awaits us beyond the horizon of the future is full of possibilities sans any of the responsibilities. The life that lies between the horizons of however, can seem scary, overwhelming, boring or even a waste of time when compared to what our imaginations have done to the past and the future.
Many want to know how the story ends: will my wife and I survive our challenges? Will I find a job? Will my kids turn out alright? Will I survive the lay-offs? Will I get the promotion? So we put the pedal to the metal and race across the landscape of our lives on a highway of determination, all the while missing the scenery, detours, cafes and sites afforded us on the surface roads of our life.
There are certain things in life you aren’t supposed to experience until you have traveled a particular path and gone the distance. Our present gives understanding of our past and provides tools for our future. There are things we are meant to learn in the slow pace of progress and the experiences that lie between the horizons. The anticipation of what lies just over the crest can be a wonderful high and a powerful incentive, but I often wonder, for my own life, what important lesson or experience might I be missing in the now because I am focused on something I refuse to let go of, or is, as of yet, out of sight beyond the horizon of my experience.
To learn algebra we had to first learn basic math. To learn basic math we had to first learn our numbers. There is order and evolution to our lives and there seems to be value in honoring that evolution. Experiences build upon experiences in ways difficult to predict. As a result, many of us seek the short cut in hopes of being in control. Resting in the place of the unknown or the difficult can freak us out, so the tendency is to put our heads down and push through it. As a result, we find ourselves going through the motion of relationships or numbingly going to work, or going to bed each night without a single reflection or realization of what was great about our day, feeling like life is happening to us instead of with us. John Mayer sings, “It’s hard to beat the system when we’re standing at a distance, so we keep on waiting, waiting on the world to change.” If you feel like life is at a distance and if you are waiting on the world to change, then your life is being lived beyond the horizons. You will wake up each morning and go to bed each evening having the same experience as the day before. The calendar will change, but you will not.
The horizon isn’t there to taunt us with what we cannot see, it’s there to focus our attention on what lies in front of us, to wake us up to the experiences under our feet that we do control, to give us manageable amounts to take in and to ask ourselves; “what can I do in this moment, in this experience, to be conscious and aware of where I am and how this moment serves me and my dreams.” That is the powerful question to ask yourself everyday.
Life is a ball and I mean that both literally as a round sphere and figurative as in a good time. And like the horizon, as we circle the globe, we can only experience so much of it at a time. Sometimes things are so big beyond the horizon, such as a mountain, that we get a glimpse of their tips even before cresting the edge, but you can’t climb it until it falls within that distance between the horizons.
