Time’s up. Soon. You think. You think you still have some time to make amends. Don’t know how much time but you’re still here, so you figure you’d better get to it lest those invisible pressures break you and tear you into something else unannounced.
What’s your vision of this? Is it religious? Is it spiritual? Is it cosmological? Is it material? Is it a mystery? Are you piecing together a puzzle made of authors and speakers and intuition?
What’s coming? When? Where are you in this confusion? How do you prepare for something you can feel zooming at you, but to which you are otherwise blind?
How long have you felt this way? Months? Years? A decade or more?
How long do you have to feel this way before you embrace the fact that nothing is coming?
Nothing is coming because it already happened and now… Now?
Now, it’s over.
Time to build.
What does that mean?
It means exactly this: You had a nonphysical geography you were working in. Hopes, dreams, goals, relationships heading in definite directions–directions of your choice. It’s not all fated; certainly you could stumble around, branch off on different paths–read the map or not–and it’s gone. All gone.
The terrain has changed, meanings have changed, currency isn’t currency, but you don’t see that and so you hold onto the things of that land. All paths on that land are a dead end. The land is dead. Nothing grows there. The future you spent your life building toward, for better or for worse, does not exist anymore.
Embrace that. All that you just were before you read this is the launching pad into right now, this “new” land. It’s not new but it feels like a fresh start.
Here’s the key to moving on: You’re holding onto that old baggage, trying to severe certain ties gracefully, asking forgiveness from those you’ve wronged, and speaking honestly to those who have wronged you. You’re trying to make that one sale that will bring you back to financial stability. You’re trying to vote in that new political system that will fix the empire. You’re recycling and making a conscious effort to buy organic foods. You’re patching the roof but the roof is all patches. There is no roof.
Let the patches collapse, the roof is already gone. Embrace the weather–rain, sun, snow–the pain and the pleasure–let it all in. Ask it what you need to build. Not re-build, that’s another cycle of the same old.
One thing at a time. First thing–the only thing–is to let go the creeping feeling that something life-altering is coming. It already did. It didn’t even creep quietly, it blatantly bowled us over. It was so fast that you missed it.
And right now you’re a ghost clinging to the life you knew, thinking it’s still your life. It isn’t. It is dead and so are you until you acknowledge this. You don’t want to acknowledge it because clinging to the past, believing you can regain your footing as the person you’re comfortable being, appears easier. But hope is sorrow, helplessness, and procrastination in disguise.
The thing that looks difficult, looks like it presents a bunch of unwanted dark challenges, isn’t. It isn’t because the first step is the only step. Acknowledging that it’s over and you’re a ghost living in a dead world is all that needs to happen to place you in the fresh start with all that you need. It all comes to you. Like magic, but it’s not magic. Like a voice that’s not your own, but it is your voice.
The butterfly chews out of its cocoon and flies. It does not think about flying or worry about being in good physical shape to flap wings for a strenuous, long time–it just flies because that is what butterflies do. From the cocoon there are questions and concerns about the future. In the future the butterfly sees that those were not real questions or concerns because they happen automatically. All it had to do to trigger that was leave the cocoon when the time was right.
The time is right. Our cocoon has nourished us for as long as was necessary. Time to go. If, in spite of all you just read, you still feel an impending doom–still feel like something’s coming–perhaps you are right. But if so, it is coming to crush the cocoon. Why not? It’s dead and needs to turn to its finer elements.
Best not to be in there when “it” comes. If it comes. Anyway, no use preparing for it. The event you suspect is coming to kill you already did. Welcome to the afterlife. If you don’t embrace that and something else comes to sweep up the dead….
Sunday eclipsed by Monday. Grow a month impeccably. Tuesday bears the fruit.