Show Me, Paint the Fence......

Ever feel like you’re going through life at a remarkably uncertain clip? I'm not talking about indifference or meandering without hope. Rather, a state of genuine doubt: unsure what your existence will add up to; what it is supposed to mean.

If so, maybe our paths have crossed in Uncertaintyville, USA.

I’m a relatively new resident. For the longest time life was fluidly ascending (at least in my mind’s eye). Sure, there were hiccups and noticeable disappointments. But idealism and his younger, less fashionable brother, naivety, still ruled the roost. Then, a few years ago, I started to lose a little altitude. Things weren’t falling into place.

And then things got worse. A lot worse.

A lost a chance with a woman I loved. My career went sideways. And I went the better part of 18 months without much sleep. My aircraft was suddenly in a flat-spin to sea. Only one redeemer could prevent a complete free-fall: the passage of time.

Thankfully, time came through in the clutch. Life kept ticking and life got better. An emergency ejection from the cockpit was averted. Then life went to Buenos Aires and got a lot better; don’t underestimate the value of some alone time in a foreign country (a destination with amicable, attractive residents strongly recommended).

Now my days are spent within a standard deviation or two of the mean. Life is enjoyable, and then it’s mediocre. It hardly ever dips below the Mendoza Line. All things considered, not at all bad.

On the other hand, when it comes to the big questions, I’m currently short on answers. I thought life was meant for one path; it seems it was not. Now I’m running in place, unsure how to reconnect with my sense of purpose. All the while knowing that time’s arrow keeps expanding ad infinitum.

As chance would have it, I was sitting on my arse last week pondering the future when The Karate Kid came on the tube. One scene in particular resonated with me. The scene when Danielson -- exhausted and fed up after painting Mr. Miyagi’s fence, waxing all of his cars, and sanding his entire deck -- is about to quit his “training.” However, before Danielson can quit Miyagi grabs him and says, “Not everything is as seems.”

Miyagi then makes Danielson show him the various motions he has learned (“Show me, paint the fence”) as Miyagi throws punches at him. Danielson effortlessly blocks the punches using his recently ingrained motions. Unbeknownst to Danielson, the days he has spent painting, sanding, and waxing have equipped him with imperative, defensive reflexes for karate.

Go figure. Danielson and Miyagi bring life to the foreground. A great scene with a theme for the ages: in life, everything not always as seems.

I’ve spent almost 30 years painting life’s fence. I’d like to know how the final coat will look. I’d gladly listen to any Okinawan proverbs that might shed light on the matter (Man who catch fly with chopstick accomplish anything…BONZAI!!!!). But deep down I know that I must accept the unknowns and move forward amidst my own uncertainty.

Sometimes you have to construct life anew from a non-linear past, knowing that more curveballs await you. Sometimes you have to allow life to choose its own timing, illuminating your path on its own schedule. Sometimes you just have to keep on painting.

As life moves forward, I will keep searching for my sense of purpose, knowing that I may not recognize its form. Time will javelin forward regardless; I might as well be on the lookout. Besides, I have a hunch. I’m guessing my purpose will look a lot like Richard Power’s definition of “yours” when he says, “what you have loved, what you have fought for, that is yours.”

Yours. Five inclusive letters. The ultimate point of reference. Synonymous with contentment. Synonymous with purpose. Worth every stroke of paint, regardless of how things seem. A silver-dollar word.