Living with head out of sand

Ostriches do not actually stick their heads in sand when threatened. They run. So why don’t we? Why do we, as intelligent beings, constantly stick our noggins in that proverbial sand? Sure, sometimes we bolt, sometimes we retaliate, but mostly, we hide. Or try to hide, anyways. We dive in, head-first, to whatever self-medication is most appealing. Food. Sex. Hobbies. Booze. Work. Drugs. Slots. Whatever. Anything to help us avoid the life struggles. The pain. The insecurity. We dive in, and pretend the hurt isn’t there. We all have a vice, or several. We all have addictions. All of us. Some “healthy,” some not. But they’re all diversions.

So what does living with head out of sand look like? I’d like to know, as terrifying as that is. I want to see the bad for what it really is. I want to look it in the eye, stare it down. Release its power. And with eyes open, free of sand, I’ll also see beauty. Real, heart-wrenching beauty. The kind that nearly blinds with its light, causing us to look away. Because sometimes, we even want to hide from the good. We don’t feel like we deserve it, or are afraid of losing it. So we hide.

I suppose the best way to keep our heads up, hearts open, is to start getting rid of sand. Start ridding our lives of the distractions, the shifting safety nets. One by one by one, start shoveling them up, and hauling them out. Some will remain, but hopefully only a thin layer. Not deep enough to sink your soul into. Yes, we’ll feel exposed. Yes, we’ll long for the comfort of the sand. And some of us will continue smacking our head into hard ground, looking for a soft place to land. I suppose if we keep at it long enough, we’ll make one.

When faced with a challenge, I’d rather run away, or put up my dukes and fight, than refuse to even see the problem in the first place.

Look. Look at life. Pick your head up and open your eyes. You might just like what you see.