Borrowed Bones

Once in a while, we are given moments of real grace. Moments of knowing who we are, not by surface markers of identity, not by where we work or how we dress, but by feeling our tender place in this world. And rather than finding ourselves in everything, we find everything in ourselves.

In the end, nobody keeps any of what they have. Life is only a borrowing of bones. And so, while our hearts still beat, we must remember that everything is right where we are. All of life is in whatever moment we wake to. 

We try so hard to find what we need - what we want - outside of ourselves. We chase after objects, people, experiences. We become masters at climbing the mountains of the world instead of breaking trail into our center. We become masters at seducing strangers to feel loved instead of embracing the softer, less perfect aspects of who we are. 

In the end, seeking only brings us to the edge of knowing ourselves. If we never look inward we become experts of life on the edge. We become chronic amnesiacs of spirit, seldomly unlocking what all our seeking means. 

In order to find true peace - true grace - we must take a genuine risk inside. 

Our aliveness depends on our ability to generate and sustain wonder inside ourselves, for ourselves. To lengthen the moments we are truly uncovered, beneath our borrowed bones. To be still and quiet until all of the elements and activity of this earth stir the facets of infinite, boundless life waiting within us. 

The World Is Your Playground

Another move. Another address. Another chapter in my story. Sometimes it feels I’ve lived a thousand lives and died a thousand deaths. Yes, in many ways life is short. But damn, life is long too. It is long and deep and profound and intricately rich. It is full, bursting, overflowing, plump with the quandaries of being alive. But it’s funny, because for me, the deeper I slip into my years, the farther I get from the ground. Like I’m floating above myself, peering into the window of my life.

Lately it feels as though I've become unhinged, unbound, uninhibited. I am no longer searching, I am just opening. I am no longer trying to make sense of pain but instead trying to be a soft and sturdy home in which the truth can land. I see so clearly how we make our way through this world - through our days, forging ahead - how we build our little lives, make rules, set standards, restraining ourselves, clinging desperately to ideals. We become rigid, repressed, trapped inside a narrowly manufactured picture of who we think we should be. We define ourselves in hard terms and then we live up to them. Because what else would we live up to if not the story we’ve created for ourselves?

Life is unpredictable. It is god damn scary. We cannot know beyond this present moment. Each one of us lives on the shore between the depths of being and the dangers of experience. Oh well. This is life. And here is the truth: There is no one else but you. No one else but YOU. You are the master of your destiny. You are the creator, the conductor, the architect, the author of your story. You are the commander of your happiness. You are magnificent.

And the world is your playground.

The world is YOUR playground.

Have FUN! You can be anyone. Be who you want to be. Life is a game. WIN.

Life is so fucking good. It is an explosion of bliss. Explore it. Choose to be happy. Choose to free yourself from old patterns. Choose to let go of all of your should and should nots. Choose to face life squarely enough to see that it is not a barricade but a door into the endless breath that has no breather. It is only YOU. Choose to let go of every little thing that is holding you back and DIVE, naked, into this moment.

Dive into THIS moment.

The water is perfect. Trust me.