Beauty means feeling the pain of loss, ambiguity and the unknown, not just the ecstasy of love.
Love, as real and as elusive as it is, requires more substance to reach the heights of the sublime. When I asked a friend of mine what I ought to write about this week, he said I should talk about the rain. It’s been raining a lot, he said, and people want to hear about that. Someone else told me I should talk about the bumper piñon crop this year, yet I wanted to talk about something that has been heavy on my heart. A dicho. A saying. More of a question really that I heard being asked from one of those “how to improve your life” gurus.
It goes something like this: What would the old you think about the current you. Powerful stuff, right? Frankly, I have no idea what rain, piñon and the old version of me have in common, but here it goes.
What I do know is that beauty doesn’t lie in our pursuit of happiness. Happiness comes and it goes. Beauty lies in pursuing the experiences that make you whole. As my philosophy professor once told me, beauty is that which lies just beyond the canvas. Slightly elusive, just on the other side of reality, but always there.
We have always been told that the meaning of life is to be happy. Could that be the greatest lie ever told? I have always felt that the greatest growth, the greatest joy, and the greatest excitement comes at the fringes of life—regardless of happiness. When you’re about to fall but catch yourself. Right before that kiss. The greatest adrenaline rush comes in anticipation of something great. That moment, that smell, the sight of lightning and the rush of thunder. The anticipation of life that comes with rain. Embrace it, bottle it up and remember that our lives depend on it.
Beauty also lies in the pain of knowing that you can’t be everything to everybody. You can’t even be everything to the one person who matters to you most. Are there regrets in life? Hopefully. Is there sadness? Keep your fingers crossed. We fail those around us because we do not and cannot live up to their expectations. We have and will fail those we love.
But we have a choice. They have a choice. Ultimately we must ask whether we add value and beauty to their lives. The day we stop and don’t make it the best, most beautiful world, then it is time to move on. But if we do, then let the past go and forgive. Let the saving grace of a monsoon rain wash away the past that serves no purpose to our future.
Which leads us to the abundance of piñon. For something new to be created, something old must be let go. Which is precisely what our piñon trees do this time of year. They let go of their hard work to provide a future of uncertainty, potential and life. Driving the country roads anywhere New Mexico at this time of year means a plethora of parked cars along the road. Hunters/gathers all, we stop by the side of the road to pick piñon. Like trick-or-treaters with our bags held open for goodies, we pick, crack and spit piñon. We speak in words of harvest, abundance and rejuvenation. The magic of sweet piñon transcends the canvas of earth, cool Autumn rains and a rosy sunset. This is our life and our right. A passage of beauty that marks the beginning, not the end of another year.
Believe in yourself because you create your reality. You create the will and strength of our community and our state. Experience it all, experience the good and the bad — do not seek happiness. Instead, seek beauty in the people and land around you. We’re all passengers on the road to someplace. Sometimes we stop to pick piñon or just enjoy the clouds rolling in. Our planet has taken its diurnal course. A year has come and gone. Is the old you proud of what it sees? Be kind to yourself.
Remember that it is easier to destroy with a slight of tongue than it is to create with the sword of creativity, love and beauty. Sometimes we have to break the hard shell of piñon to experience the sweetest kernels of life. Even if we have to spit out the broken pieces of our past and our present.
Javier Sanchez is an El Rito investor and former Española mayor.