Someone recently asked me what book I would write if I only had two weeks to live.
That question caught me slightly off balance. What story would I tell about my life? What wisdom would I share from my time here on planet earth? Would there be a compelling urgency to my last words? Or would I go all nostalgic and reminisce about the past?
So many good questions to answer, no?
That first question though brought me immediately to the present moment. What would I write, right now? How would I live the final 14 days of my existence?
And I found myself wanting to rush headlong to that final moment as I have rushed throughout my life into situations and experiences often more battering ram then well thought out steps. Often instantly jumping then looking later. No doubt a strategy to living a life but maybe one not conducive to self preservation.
Though, look. Here I am writing about it so something must be working out.
Two weeks and counting. Maybe it won't be me who dies, but something that has served it's purpose. A part of me that is no longer necessary, no longer serves the greater good, and in dying reveals the higher consciousness me that like an apparition has come and gone hardly seen throughout my life. Maybe now the veil of silliness and ignorance and fear and stress and drama and frustration will drop.
For good. No more bullshit. No more excuses. The hidden Light shines for once and for all.
Two weeks. Then the transition occurs between life and LIFE. The journey from birth to re-birth. No death whatsoever. Just another...
...trip West toward the place of the setting Sun.
Godspeed.
That question caught me slightly off balance. What story would I tell about my life? What wisdom would I share from my time here on planet earth? Would there be a compelling urgency to my last words? Or would I go all nostalgic and reminisce about the past?
So many good questions to answer, no?
That first question though brought me immediately to the present moment. What would I write, right now? How would I live the final 14 days of my existence?
And I found myself wanting to rush headlong to that final moment as I have rushed throughout my life into situations and experiences often more battering ram then well thought out steps. Often instantly jumping then looking later. No doubt a strategy to living a life but maybe one not conducive to self preservation.
Though, look. Here I am writing about it so something must be working out.
Two weeks and counting. Maybe it won't be me who dies, but something that has served it's purpose. A part of me that is no longer necessary, no longer serves the greater good, and in dying reveals the higher consciousness me that like an apparition has come and gone hardly seen throughout my life. Maybe now the veil of silliness and ignorance and fear and stress and drama and frustration will drop.
For good. No more bullshit. No more excuses. The hidden Light shines for once and for all.
Two weeks. Then the transition occurs between life and LIFE. The journey from birth to re-birth. No death whatsoever. Just another...
...trip West toward the place of the setting Sun.
Godspeed.
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