A Reckoning
Posted on Sep 7th, 2007
by
Jim
I took a whole month off. It was fantastic. Now I'm piecing together what happened. It will probably take awhile. Possibly years. Where to start?
I drove away. I left Reno, which despite my best efforts has been my home town for most of two decades. I left work and friends and family, and I hit the road. I let myself be free. I broke down the walls in my head about what I need to do and where I need to go. I let my future be fluid. That's a first for me. I've always had a plan. I knew very little. I knew that I'd meet a girl in San Rafael. That was about it. Everything else was an unfolding mystery, and that terrified me at times.
I realized that I am afraid of dying. After stripping off all the bravado, I could see myself clinging to life, clinging to neural pathways and patterns that seemed safe. They seemed like the way to protect myself from the inevitable. Do you understand? I'm talking about your 401Ks people. I'm talking about your daily schedules. I'm talking about your financial investment strategy and your nightly sojourn to the gym to burn off a couple thousand calories. These are our safety nets. These are the ways that we convince ourselves that we're invincible and that life is eternal. But life is not forever. I know that now. Life has become as fleeting as a heartbeat.
Perhaps that's the ultimate realization on the path of becoming consciously present. You live in the present because that's all you have, and it may not last long. This may sound woefully mundane, but until you feel this truth in every fiber of your body, you'll keep investing in your 401K and putting off that vacation that you've always wanted. There's always tomorrow, you'll say. And you'll be wrong when the bus hits you today.
This is sounding morbid, but it's the most freeing thing that I've experienced. It's one of the things, anyway, that I've learned in body, mind, and spirit. There's so much in me, so much going on around me that I hardly know what all to say or how to convey it. I love it. I'm living it. I'm alive.
I drove away. I left Reno, which despite my best efforts has been my home town for most of two decades. I left work and friends and family, and I hit the road. I let myself be free. I broke down the walls in my head about what I need to do and where I need to go. I let my future be fluid. That's a first for me. I've always had a plan. I knew very little. I knew that I'd meet a girl in San Rafael. That was about it. Everything else was an unfolding mystery, and that terrified me at times.
I realized that I am afraid of dying. After stripping off all the bravado, I could see myself clinging to life, clinging to neural pathways and patterns that seemed safe. They seemed like the way to protect myself from the inevitable. Do you understand? I'm talking about your 401Ks people. I'm talking about your daily schedules. I'm talking about your financial investment strategy and your nightly sojourn to the gym to burn off a couple thousand calories. These are our safety nets. These are the ways that we convince ourselves that we're invincible and that life is eternal. But life is not forever. I know that now. Life has become as fleeting as a heartbeat.
Perhaps that's the ultimate realization on the path of becoming consciously present. You live in the present because that's all you have, and it may not last long. This may sound woefully mundane, but until you feel this truth in every fiber of your body, you'll keep investing in your 401K and putting off that vacation that you've always wanted. There's always tomorrow, you'll say. And you'll be wrong when the bus hits you today.
This is sounding morbid, but it's the most freeing thing that I've experienced. It's one of the things, anyway, that I've learned in body, mind, and spirit. There's so much in me, so much going on around me that I hardly know what all to say or how to convey it. I love it. I'm living it. I'm alive.

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