Saturday, October 18, 2025
Are you dying to get to the weekend? Are you dying to get out of that situation? Are you just dying to get to the end of the semester? Are you dying to get done with that medical treatment? Trying and dying are the same.
Are you dying to pay your taxes? Are you dying to reach a certain age? Are you dying to die? We are dying to get to your vacation spot, and then soon as you arrive you’re dying to get home? We don’t want to die, but we’re dying to get to the graveyard. I’m confused.
Dying is being out of tune. It’s pushing, pulling, averting, rushing, and resisting. It’s fantasizing about what is not. If you’re dying to finish, you’re entertaining the future, something that is not. You’re missing what aliveness offers, alert and present peace. Most of us are dying to get to the good stuff. But the good stuff is not in trying, it’s live, as in alive.
The wherewithal “to be” gives you all the time to savor, to say hello, to exercise, to do spiritual practices, to rest, and to relax. There is so much about today that tomorrow is robbing you of. There is more bandwidth today if yesterday would stop eating so much of it. Imagine devoting all of your bandwidth to this moment! What rapture!
The remarkable secret to aliveness is oozing deeper into all that you are, all that you do, and all that you have, now. The remarkable liberation that you seek, disguised as dying to get rich, is right in the middle of the chaos, smack-dab in a disappearing center into which few ever plunge.
They’re too busy dying to get to nowhere, overlooking the paradise of now here. Hear now. Here now. Paradise hums deep tones. Paranoia screams out of tune.