The Elusive Nature of Satisfaction

 Most mornings, unless it's raining, I hop on my bike and ride to the south end of our island. It's a good way to start the day and get my daily exercise. Today, I hesitated. We're in the midst of one of those beastly heat waves unrelieved even by the usual ocean breeze. No, I decide, better to go since the day will only get hotter.

I grind out the miles on the way down and when I turn to ride back, the wind picks up, its full force in my face. For a moment I welcome the blessed hint of coolness it brings, then, dissatisfaction begins to set in. I have to work harder now to peddle the remaining two miles.

A bit of remorse hits me. How hard it is for me, and others, too, I think, to ever be fully satisfied! And if we manage those moments of complete peace with who and where we are, how hard it is to hold onto that satisfaction.

As I ponder my ungratefulness, Mick Jagger's "I Can't Get No Satisfaction" plays in my head. I've always loved that song , but never really incorporated it into my psyche before as a social statement. Mostly, I connected it with dancing and sex (or the lack thereof!). Now the song lyrics buzz in my head to tease, to torment, and to remind me of the elusive nature of satisfaction .

From there, my mind drifts to Goldilocks and The Three Bears. Am I destined to constantly find my life too hard or too soft, and never just right? How about you? Do you, too, find yourself often stuck in the land of "no satisfaction?'

While I push my bike into the garage, I recall buying it several weeks ago. It's a hot pink $99 Schwinn from Walmart's. What a bargain! Of course, at the time, I groused about the fact that Schwinn bikes are now made in China, but then, isn't almost everything else?

The fact this was my first brand new bike hits me. What strikes me even more is the realization I never hungered for a new one, or put it on my Santa list as a child. Only one "rich" boy In our neighborhood had a shiny, new bike and he was considered an "outsider." How could I envy him since he and his family seldom attended neighborhood parties? Maybe I should have felt sorry for him, but that never occurred to me, either. Partly due to "kid" callousness, and partly because his parents "imported" playmates from some other place.

Now, for a moment, I'm truly satisfied as I realize my childhood was such that I didn't need a new bike to be happy or to belong. If we could recapture the wonder of our early years, perhaps, we could take an unreserved joy in that sudden, swift, cooling wind in our face. And ask why was Goldilocks so worried about too hot or too cold porridge. After all, wouldn't it cool or couldn't she warm it up? Who would ever eat porridge anyway?

(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction, http://www.keno.org/stones_lyrics/satisfaction.html.