… a couple of days ago, Nell’s blog opened by quoting Marcel Proust about the end of the world. She referred to a problem we encounter next month in December:
You know, this lazy Mayan blogger was tired of his work and ventured for a new life as a storyteller. So one day he threw his hammer and chisel deep into a hole at the pyramid where he was working, walked as far as the Amazon rainforest, married 3 wives and made 23 children. He would still earn a living as a maths teacher, but most of the time, he enjoyed the rest of his life telling stories. (a kind of oral travel blog)
“I think that life would suddenly seem wonderful to us if we were threatened to die as you say. Just think of how many projects, travels, love affairs, studies, It – our life – hides from us, made invisible by our laziness which, certain of a future, delays them incessantly.
But let all this threaten to become impossible for ever, how beautiful it would become again! Ah! if only the cataclysm doesn’t happen, this time, we won’t miss visiting the new galleries of the Louvre, throwing ourselves at the feet of Miss X., making a trip to India.
The cataclysm doesn’t happen, we don’t do any of it, because we find ourselves back in the heart of normal life, where negligence deadens desire. And yet, we shouldn’t have needed the cataclysm to love life today. It would have been enough to think that we are humans, and that death may come this evening.”
I lost my job in March, so decided it was time to go to India with my 5 year old daughter, so she could see her grandmother and family living in India. This was an opportunity not to miss.
Financially it looked like a disaster, but we are still here and capable of paying for electricity and heating. Most people would frantically look for a new job and security. But I didn’t have time for that, I … had an existential crisis waiting for me …
Much heavier than a midlife crisis (I had midlife crisis at the age of 32), an existential crisis is like an earthquake. Your house is reduced to rubble, and you have to rebuild it (the smaller, the better). In the crisis, your ‘meaning of/in life’ is that house. So all my ideas about how the world and beyond works, where torn to pieces.
The crisis had been building up for a long time, losing my job was not the cause. But being jobless I had the precious time to face my crisis head on.
Basically, it looks like life has no purpose.
We live in a crazy world, and many societies have invented ways to keep us under control, and we are breastfed that nonsense from the first day we are born. This includes ALL metaphysics: be it organized religion, totalitarian laws, new age, near death experiences, ‘we are here to learn‘, ‘we are here to remember who we are‘, … you name it.
If any metaphysics is true, give me a manual so I can experience the truth in it, so that the experience(s) can transform me from being a metaphysics theoretician to an experienced paraglider of life. To do that, I have to get rid of eye-blinders, interpretation, and interfering memories of colouring past. I want to perceive what is. I want to experience what is. Without my mind telling me what it thinks I am experiencing. (easier said than done)
Right now, (but often not), I experience ‘the flow‘. For me ‘the flow’ exists. I ride the wave on the ocean, and realize that steering or braking is nothing else but delaying what has to come.
Don’t accept my knowledge. Experience it. Ask me for a manual if you want to, but don’t believe me.
I realize that there is 99.999% undiscovered territory in my being, but since I don’t
know anything about it, I don’t want to fantasize about it (and create new metaphysics) either.
If reality wants to reveal itself, it will come.
10 days before I left to India, I made a list of things to do before leaving. I did all those things on the list, because of this DeaD-LinE.
Some of these things were reasonable, like going to the pharmacy and buy some medicine, just in case; or phoning a shuttle service to get transport to the airport early on a Saturday morning. Going to the hairdresser could have waited but I went. Cleaning up part of the garden was not urgent. And I visited my 88 year old godmother and her 89 year old husband.
Since I’m back from India, I have done many things, but I have the impression that a day had more hours in it, just before leaving, … because of that Dead-Line.
Dead is like that: a Dead-Line. A point of no return.
Being lazy is to have no Dead-Line.
There is a time to rest, and a time to be ill, but there is also a time to love and a time to communicate.
Being lazy, is having your life completely under control. Like working 40 years for the same boss, riding the same morning train everyday, seeing the same zombies everyday, and saving for your pension every day. Or planning the next 60 years for your kids every day.
Till a doctor tells you there are only 90 difficult days left.
It’s horrible news, completely shaking you inside out. How will i spent the last days of my life … with those I love, and the way I would have liked to have lived if only …
You could plan days like this: every last Friday of the month you celebrate life as if it is your last day. And after you get used to it, you might celebrate once a week … or why not on a daily basis. You will celebrate life every day, and you will live without regret …
Just do it … NOW … cause you might be hit by that morning train without warning and die without having had the time to live your last days, before the Dead-Line, to the fullest.