a regurgitation of my daily repititions
by this time tomorrow, i could expire. what do i need to say?
i want to communicate the way i experience the sacred. i look out into a parking lot watching people go about their business while i wait for her to get off of work. my body feels light, relaxed, and completely without tension. my emotional self (the corrolary to my bodily self) similarly feels relaxed an light, with no concern for responsibility or fear. the spectacle of life before me has become vividly clear. the brisk, cool breeze finds its way into my car through the opening of the slightly open window while it brushes the leaves on the trees.
this moment is so full. this moment though, has arisen from a recent history of considering my life, existence in general, music, movies, laughter, despair, etc, etc. communicating the experience of the sacred without communicating the context/history out of which it has been experienced seems short sighted and a bit lazy.
i guess i feel like i can’t really capture the immensity of the feeling of completion, of the sacred. the feeling of complete fulfilment comes from, for me, a consideration of the most fundamental questions … and not necessarily answering them. simply considering, for example, what it means to have purpose, what it means to question the purpose i want to have, unifies me with something so special, so important, so essential, so sacred that i feel i’ve reached a point where i can be at peace with anything, with everything. this point is of paramount importance to me, too, because i feel, now, that it is my duty, my purpose, to live from this place. that is to say, it’s my purpose always be connected, to always be unified, with this sense of centrality. only then can my life be beneficial for, properly helpful to, those around me. only then can i be of service to my self and others.
but reaching this point and staying there is so difficult. it takes effort i have yet to even comprehend. it takes something i yet to even glimpse. what honesty must i have with myself and others? what determination must i muster to try without trying to reach and remain in this place? What priorities must i found my actions upon? it is, i feel, a great task, a great practice, a worthy practice, to embark upon such an endeavour. perhaps however, i ought to console my self some. for the desire within me to live such a life seems already worlds away from the objects of my childhood desires.
tomorrow i may die, this i know. tomorrow i may witness the spectacle of life for the last time. i shall, until that time comes, devote myself fully to the endeavours of my choice. I shall not do anything with less than my complete attention and effort, nor without my complete honesty and dignity.
In the court of aunthenticity, I face ultimate judgment, not of my peers, but of and for myself, each moment I, with all my attention and might, decide to either do as I know I ought, or not. With the weight of a million bottles of xanax, impulsive desire tears me down, toward the depths of guilt, shame, servitude and self-mutilation. It may, perhaps, be of interest to this court as to the nature of this weight: for it is the very weight which placed me on the steps of authenticity. The wanton within, the socially precribed me tears ever so subtly at the cloth of my self’s unity. It at once whispers in my left ear “consume, consume, consume” while in my right I scream “listen”. An anxiety ensues which is at first pernicious, permeating my sight with fantastic pain, severing ties with the world which I never thought seperable: “ought I really smile at every individual I make eye contact with”? A new feeling bubbles to the surface. At first fear, nausea, nervousness; but this gives way to incessant inner dialogue. Reason has, as the case normally is with these matters, paradoxically presented itself to me as the objective source of my subjective interpretation of what I ought do, or not do. Reason says, with good reason, to be temperate with the consumption of substances.
