I hate to break it to you but we’re all gonna die.
Before you abandon this story because you may not want to deal with this inevitable truth, and our brains are hardwired to avoid death at all costs, maybe give me a couple more minutes of your time to consider something pretty fuckin’ cool?
Because fully comprehending we are going to die...
can set us free to really, fully Live.
It’s great being comfortable.
I like being comfortable.
But...
(yes, here’s the but as usual)
sometimes we aren’t even that comfortable and we stay stuck regardless.
Sometimes it seems like a better idea to stick with the devil you know, right? I mean, what if we try something different and shit goes seriously wrong?
What if we make a “mistake”?
What if I told you…
There are no mistakes.
There’s only experience and learning.
And, ultimately, growth… if a person is motivated enough to not make that “mistake” again.
I’ve made some epically fucked-up decisions in my time. *raises hand
Thing is... what seemed like chaos to others (and even to me at times during the journey) turned out to be my most valuable learning in the end. And my biggest personal growth.
I'm sure you all know this one as writers? The "winning formula" of “The Hero’s Journey”.
Seemingly disastrous decisions, events and consequences… and, ultimately… transformation?
You can't transform anything without the risks associated with change.
Experience (isn’t it interesting we interchange the words experience and knowledge?) sure doesn’t come our way if we stay stuck in a comfort zone and refuse to try something new. Or refuse to even do things a bit differently.
Many of us seem to be seeking some kind of "truth" and opportunity for growth these days.
Here's a little bit of my learning that may or may not interest some people...
You have this one life to live.
Here. As you are. This one life. As the you that you are.
Right here and right now.
Isn’t that wonderful and marvelous?
Because you are these things. Just as you are. And I'm gonna keep on reminding you so that you remember.
I don't know about you but I plan to embrace this one life, as the me I am in it, to the fullest. I plan to make “mistakes”, figure shit out as fast as possible, experience the experience as hard as I can and inevitably learn and grow.
And then I’m gonna do it again with a whole new experience, make some other mistakes and figure out what not to do during the next experience.
But I wasn’t always like this.
In fact, it was only when I learned how to die… that I really learned how to live *stolen
When you learn how to die, you learn how to live.
-Morrie Schwartz
I accidentally found myself in my mid-forties, isolated, bored, fat, stressed out, unhappy with my daily routine and work, doing everything that didn’t really fill my soul because responsible, financial, expected of me and parent.
I’d been single for three and a half years by this stage as well. (No surprise there, right?)
By around 2017 I’d shut the world out and shut myself down.
I was in a miserable comfort zone, that was anything but comfortable, and I wasn’t even aware of it. I thought I was living a normal, sober (for multiple years by this time) life in recovery. I thought I was a self-sufficient woman who had it all together and that I didn’t need anyone or anything.
I wasn't though.
I was just plain old too scared to try again after a hectically toxic relationship.
One of those epically fucked up decisions I was talking about...
but hey... it got me sober!
I never wanted to make that particular mistake again.
See?
But no more dating for me thanks going on almost four years by this time.
My dog had become my company at home. Ice-cream and Netflix had become my substitute for a loneliness I refused to acknowledge.
I can add they're a pretty good substitute. All of these things.
Then I had a cancer scare.
So I went for a biopsy and was told to wait for some days for the results.
Literally a day or two after that we found a lump in my son’s jaw and the same process began for him.
If I hadn’t had some years of recovery and sobriety behind me I probably would have flipped the fuck out. Alcohol most certainly would have been involved. Drama would have ensued because the big C (and alcohol) right?
But what happened instead was that I chose to slow down.
In fact, I stopped my daily mission of merely surviving in full. My computer was turned off. My work station was abandoned. Emails went unanswered.
Unheard of for me.
I suddenly really “saw” my life and I was shocked at how messed up my priorities had become. And my misery at the life I had unconsciously created was thrown into the light.
When I was presented with the possibility that either myself or my child may not be around for much longer?
My stress filled days of endless desk bound hours and no time for the things that really mattered to me most… just stopped for a while.
The reality that the time my son and I had together may be limited made me fully aware of what actually was important… in this one life we have together.
The thing is... our time together is limited.
As this situation unfolded, I suddenly realised how unimportant so much of my daily focus was and I CHOSE to spend every available moment possible with my son instead.
And you know what?
The earth didn't shatter into a gazillion pieces and life went on around us anyway.
The time that we should, by all rights, have had while he was growing up and I was still lucky enough to be in the position of mothering him all over the place. When he really needed me the most.
But when I was too busy trying to survive the stress and responsibilities of "modern life" to be able to be fully "present" for him most of the time.
On one day of this waiting for the outcome of our future we skipped work and we skipped school.
Instead, we went to a massive fun park and stayed past sunset. We were two of the last people to leave when they closed the doors for the day. We went on EVERY single ride. More than once. More than several times.
In fact, we got off our favourites, shouting, “Again again!” like little kids (okay, he was a little kid but I sure felt like one too that day), and raced back to the starting gate immediately for the next round.
I insisted we go on all the rides.
Even the ones we were too scared to go on.
Especially the ones we were too scared to go on!
When my boy said he was too scared to get on a hardcore rollercoaster-or-whatever, instead of admitting I was also terrified, I truthfully replied:
“This park may be closing in a few months. Are you going to miss the opportunity to go on this ride, or what? We may not get another chance to go on this ride again. Ever.”
So he said okay, yeah. And we did.
And we laughed. And we shouted and we screamed in terror. And we fuckin' rode those rides to the max.
It’s still one of the best days I've ever spent with him.
Isn’t it interesting that we use the term “spent” on both time and money?
Which do you think you'll want more of at the end of this roller-coaster ride we call "life"?
Yeah... I know you know this. But do you remember to remember?
I didn't.
Both of us got the all clear for the possible cancer thing.
The park was, in fact, busy closing it’s doors and I knew this was pending when we went that last time.
It’s a day we both remember, still.
A Ferris Bueller’s day off. A day filled with joy, life, breaking the rules, discarding the expectations of others and creating new experiences in place of them. Despite the somber reason that initiated it.
It was one day we did it all despite our fear. The day we threw off the expectations of society and our shackles of unasked for responsibility… to fully live.
That cancer scare left me with some experiential learning that has, literally, saved my life in many ways.
Buddhists suggest we meditate on death daily, you know.
This suggestion is to encourage people to live their best lives as their best selves and at the end of it all...to be able to leave this world with as little regret and as few amends to make as possible.
A "peaceful death" they call it.
After facing death (more than once as it turned out... perhaps I hadn't learned the lesson fully yet...) I have to agree...
it is a marvelous way to fully LIVE.
This is a revised bit of writing from an old story I stumbled onto because of the latest #silverprompts.
I went off to my drives(s) to see what photos may inspire me and found the next few photos, which are a direct result of the experiential learning mentioned above.
These photos were taken on a walk in our favourite place (see Toby swimming as well!).
It was winter, pretty cold and the streams were good and full.
We stopped at a favourite place with a rope swing the kids often played on and my son jokingly asked if he should have a go, fully clothed and all and I said...
Well...I'm sure you can guess what my answer was...
I had to dig up a dog blanket so he could sit on it for the ride home in the once was new car (since shed/lost in the movement towards less stuff is more time with the things that are important).
Once upon a time I would've freaked out if my child got a bit grubby. More washing y'know! *sigh. Maybe mud on the floor. *sigh What if he got cold??? *shudder and sigh
These days I can't quite believe the opportunities and moments I missed because of sweating the small stuff. *rolling eye emoji at my old self
No more wasting precious time for me.
“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass… It’s about learning to dance in the rain.” -Vivian Greene.
Three cases now because the law keeps being broken in plain sight of the law and she won’t allow it anymore. Her records of this go back years. The behaviour of an outlaw. But not the cool, Tom Robbins kind.
She's never “had the time” to try and stop it. Always in crisis. No time for self-care. Survival mode. Struggling. Kept on the back foot admin. Drama. Sabotage. Self-doubt. Isolation. Chaos. Confusion. Exhaustion. And — ultimately — weakness because of it all.
And shame. Shame and guilt that there was something wrong with her and this was, somehow, her own fault and she deserved it.
Sarah is determined. She’s been sick and unable to afford medical care. And by unable to afford it I mean not even the hundred odd bucks for a government hospital. God knows she’s used to the queues. So many citizens, so little time.
But billable hours lost doing her own legal admin because an overwhelmed system and no help coming. And all support effectively eliminated. And work where she can squeeze it in and not enough time anyway. And kids. And selling shit for food. These things take time.
It's expensive being poor.
She still would have gone to wait her turn though. Ten days now. Something bacterial. Gut. But not even a government hospital fuck broke. She's gotten thin though. Fast. Baggy thin. Not so sexy.
Yes, you can get too thin. A contradiction to the stupid quote that rang through the privileged gong circles she'd run in for so many wasted years. But still she refuses to give in. She's choosing freedom and this fight is the path to sanity and peace. To a life worth sticking around for.
This is the path that leads back to herself.
Originally posted in the Silver Bloggers Community
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