Wednesday, November 18, 2009

102 Days. CRAP! That means only 263 left.


In our lives we accomplish a lot of things, from having children to writing books to finding a cure for certain diseases to helping the world enter what may be the next American Renaissance. (I have theories for everything)
We, as Americans, work - work - work - until one day we REACH OUR GOAL, which would be "retirement" and then most of the time we don't know what the hell to do with ourselves...

"I know what I'm going to do! NOTHING!"

I've  heard that a lot of times from different people, but let's be honest, doing nothing is a fine way to get inside your head and one of the scariest places you can ever be is inside your head. Especially if you have one iota of doubt tuck away in there.

Doubt is like a time bomb placed inside your very own brain by your very own person. Yes, you are the suicide bomber of your own mental stability (and life) and it's just something that we don't take notice too.
I have doubt. Actually I have so many doubts in my life, ABOUT my life, that my doubt is a bit more like an itchy hair shroud I like to don around 4 am every morning when my body tells me it was a really bad idea to shotgun that glass of water just before bed.
"-A. It's gonna make you pee, yet you do it every night!"
"I know. I know... but I feel so parched! I must drink this 16oz of water before I retire for the night!"
"Just skip the water -A, because you know who will invade your brain when you wake up to facilitate and then what? You know what will happen...you'll lay in bed, frustrated, again as your mind races and all those doubts are pointed out until all you can see are things that are really nothing more than little blips on the radar of your life."
~sigh~ my body is so metaphorical. It's beautiful.

When you don't know what's up there, those little tidbits you hide away in your brain, it's very easy to let the doubt attack you where you lay.

Enter meditation.

People like to tell me how they can't meditate. It's "too hard" to just sit there and do nothing. But that's the point. AND that's why it's call practice. You practice meditation. You do it over and over and over and over and hope that at some point you'll find that little bit of insight you've been looking for.

Since I've started meditating I have cried, I lost my mind one day - that was scary - I've been frustrated and over all I've been happier about a lot of things.

What is meditation? It's finding all of those time bombs and defusing them NOW rather than waiting for them to ruin every thing later.

You think you're ready for death - but most of us aren't. We UNDERSTAND that we're going to die. We KNOW that this body is just a temporary housing for our consciousness, but we haven't accepted the big picture.

Myself included.

A few months back I did this "death meditation." And it's just what you may think it is.

You lay down and close your eyes. In your mind's eye you visualize yourself dead as a door nail and buried six feet under the ground. As the days pass this body you know so well begins to bloat and the liquids begin to release as nature takes its course. Little bugs start crawling on you, eating your decaying flesh.

Detached. You just read that and thought, "Wow. That's gross." But if you let go of that detachment, that numbing we've all allowed to happen to our brain where we can see 500 people slaughtered in a movie and not blink an eye, you suddenly realize that there is no coming back from that.

One day I'll be dead. No do over. No second chance. My body will rot, I will be no more. People will forget me. People will never know I existed.

Enter panic attack.

No. I'm not saying I want to be immortal - but the finality of the whole thing...

I cried a lot that night. I cried because I'm human and no matter how giving we can be we are all overly attached to ourselves - even if we don't like ourselves 100%.

I have 263 days left and I don't want to be forgotten. I don't want people to see my life as a flash in a pan that was so worthless they can just move on and pretend that I never existed. There is a side of me that is yelling at me as I write this down. "Don't be vain." But I don't think I'm being vain. Not all of me at least.

When it's the truth is it that bad of a thing?

Yes, I suppose it can be.

I know I'm no Mother Teresa. I know my vanity is an issue at times. I know that I'm pigheaded and I can be crude. I know I've done things in this little life of mine that I'm not proud of. I know that I grew used to my short life on stage that screamed LOOK AT ME YOU MOTHER F***ER! YEAH!

I don't want to be remember for that either.

I have 263 days to become someone worth remembering.

When you put a number on things - be it the amount of time you have left or till you're out of a job, the day your child should be born, when you are to be married/divorced - when you find that finality <-there's that word again... all it can do is make you think.

cry

feel

when you do that you can move forward.

When you meditate and you have to sit there, perfectly still for 5 minutes or 60 minutes and do NOTHING but be with YOURSELF, learn about YOURSELF - when you can do that, it won't matter because all those bombs will be gone and the person you see in that mirror will be someone you're proud of...

And then you can really live.

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