20241014 - 15:51
As always when writing, the question is where to start, and as always when writing, the answer is that it does not matter. So long as we start pulling the thread, it will all unravel just the same. We might, then, start with this question. Are you being honest with yourself? The assumption that there is some external piece of knowledge missing for one’s (attempt towards) unity of mind is at best a deceiving lie. Ignorance is a choice in so much as we are consciously covering up that which we are afraid to bear. Unfortunately, it is precisely that which we must look at in order to continue forward.
There are, in essence, 2 parts to the process. The first is honesty about our aspirations, about our needs, wants, desires, and in very broad terms, the life we want to live. Putting aside all practical considerations, and all externalities, What do I desire? Not tomorrow, not in a year, and definitely not yesterday. Outside of temporality, that, too, being an external concern, let this question prevail. Without rushing to an answer, or planning the steps to achieve it, or mistaking X for Y. With compassion towards whatever it is that arises, and awareness of its inherent validity. Be it big or small, high or low. What do I desire?
The object might be mundane, or not. It might be practical, or not. But in letting the question persist we have gained a sense of the landscape. The direction of our desires might be better grasped, and in general might give way to an honest striving. Because the second part is the reason that even asking this question is uncomfortable. There is a reason we tend not to. The fact that we cover up discrepancies in self-denial is because we’re afraid of what might greet us at the end of the road. Honesty, if given too much nurturing, will drive us forward. Because if we really give the space for the truth: the presence of death, excuses become a lot harder to believe.
If you were to die today, what life would you be proud to live? What things would matter, and what wouldn’t? What fears would fade, and what would no longer be put off? This is not an abstract line of questioning. You will die. Really. Not abstractly, but here, now, one moment, you will die, and then you will be no more. It will not have happened to someone else, and you will not have known it beforehand. All that life was, will be no more. The time for regrets will have passed.
The time to be alive is now, today. Because tomorrow might not be. Death is not a statistic that says you’re likely to have a lot more time. Death is the possibility that you won’t. Death is the fact that it is out of your control. Life can only be delayed if death is denied, and such a life is unlived. Its acceptance prompts urgency, because in fact that which you takes for granted as life is never guaranteed. It is your responsibility, and only yours, to have it be as you want. Nobody will live it for you, and if you don’t, sooner than you think, it will be no more. So ask yourself: am I being honest?