Not Waiting To Be Alive
Our human life is so precious because we know it has its limits and its inevitable end. Whenever we stop for a moment our entanglement with things (which includes projects, activities, worrying and planning), we directly face that what is happening could just as well not have come to be at all. We exist forever in the truth of contingency, change, and our lack of control—but like I said, we avoid this truth pretty well by losing ourselves in what we’re doing. Part of the good news of what’s occurring in the world today is that even people who thought they knew what was going to happen and were in control of what was unfolding have found out that this was not the case.
We are in the middle of a big opening in which we can directly contact what is most true.
When I say “most true,” I mean what we penetratingly feel/see with stark clarity and know directly (without having to analyze) in the moments when we are in touch with ourselves—which means those times when we are not caught up or lost in things. No one has to convince us or teach us this truth; we only have to set up conditions so we can settle at least a little bit and there it will be, where it’s always been—that is to say, exactly where you are.
What is your life organized around? Are there occasions when you can find out for yourself what is true? When it can arrive?
There is often an initial mood that accompanies our slowing down and encountering our own humanity. This mood is sufficiently disconcerting and taboo enough culturally that we habitually move away from it. Martin Heidegger calls the mood dread; others have called it anxiety. In any case you’ll find it for yourself after you step back from frenetic activities for a few hours or, in some cases, a few minutes. This mood orients us to what is true: that we have limits and live in an uncertainty.
It’s the opening to authenticity, to being alive in a real, unique way that only you can be. It’s our Pinocchio moment: when we stop being a wooden puppet controlled by strings others hold.
This year can be such a time when you become fully alive, fully yourself. No one can do this for you; however, you have everything you need to do it for yourself.
Waiting will not bring it about; no doubt you’ve noticed this.
Relaxing, opening, and staying with what is true frees us in the most profound way possible for us as human beings. Yet we flee. We get caught up. We race full throttle 24 hours a day away from ourselves.
We are hypnotized by the dazzle of stuff that is in front of us. We’ve learned no tolerance for dread. We imagine that some type of success will transport us to a place where we feel at ease, happy and vital, and that if we keep active that success will come about. Does it?
I think we have to keep reminding ourselves of what is true. I find it essential to live a life in which we keep returning again and again to our own private personal encounter with our humanness. For example, we have all learned that we only appreciate the preciousness of our children, our partners and other loved ones when we feel directly that they are changing and that our relationship with them will shift, dim and eventually fade away. There is no escape from this, from our humanity. Our life is almost unbearably beautiful and sad.
A paradox of being human is that we are most that way when we face our limits. We don’t like this, usually. Many of us are fervidly attempting to exceed all limits, but what is the actual experience of living that way? (See what is happening to the earth for more on this.)
I’m in no way trying to put a damper on your life or be negative or despondent or resigned. Neither am I trying to tell you something that must be true for you. Instead I’m inviting you to slow and find yourself and act from there.
I invite you to a year of being fully alive.
Take care of yourself.
Love,
James
Very nice.
Beautiful! Thank you, James.
Beautiful ❤
James, my greatest enduring learning from the PCC with you and our wonderful cohort was that knowing--the knowing that comes from the wholeness of my spirit--emerges only when I slow down. Thanks for the beautiful, personal, global, inviting post.
Thank you!