FIRST LAST ALWAYS

This is the last day of my life.

Let me rephrase that.

This is the only day of my life.

Just typing those words opens something inside of me.

The something that is opening inside of me is not conceptual. It is not theoretical. It is not a happy sticker.

What is opening inside of me is not a notion in my head. What is opening inside of me is the reality of my heart.

This could well be the last day of my life. While not probable it is possible that this will be the day I leave the planet and this incarnation. The preparations I make for tomorrow will be for naught. The projections of a future will never come to pass. The time I spend in when-then time will be time I do not directly experience now-this.

While there is a possibility that this could be the last day of my life what is more certain is that this is the only day of my life.

I have come to deeply know that my entire life is happening right now.

That is the realization that opens inside of me when I allow for the full experience of it.

When I center myself fully in this moment wherever my attention goes, I remain here in now.

I look back and I do so from now.

I project ahead and I do so from now.

My first day of life is happening now.

My last day of life is happening now.

My entire life adventure is always happening now.

Seeing as how my past is happening now, I can change it based on how I remember and relate to it.

When I perceptually change my past the unpromised future automatically changes as well.

Past changing, future transforming, and I never, ever leave the now.

I do not remember my first breath. It is likely that I will not know when it is my very last breath. So, it behooves me to remember that I am breathing in this moment and that this breath is all I have.

Today I could live, and today, I could die. That felt reality is what opens within me as an invitation to live fully, freely, dynamically. This moment is the only moment I know I have.

What a supreme gift to know that. To live in and from it. To look back and forward from a context of first, last, always now.

I am grateful that I have an expanding perspective that knows there is more to living than regretting the past and fretting about the future. I am grateful to know that while I can take practical steps to insure, ensure, plan there is no guarantee I will ever initiate any of it. I am grateful to know that I can plan for tomorrow and still be fully here in today.

Since early on in my incarnation I have had this fear that I would get to the end of my life and regret how I lived it. That I would regret what I did and even more what I was too afraid to do. While most people avoid regret like a plague it was been a guiding force for me. I am conscious enough to realize that I in fact do have regrets. They are past, and so I compassionately look upon them. They are teachers that suggest how I might live today. I make amends to my regrets by being more fully intentional in how I show up in this day. Because this is it. Dress rehearsal is over. The show is happening now. I do not know when the final curtain will fall. So, I am giving it my all today. Now.

My entire life is happening now.

The regrets.

The amending of those regrets.

Properly framed this is the last day of my life.

In reality this is the only day of my life.

That opens something inside of me.

First, last, always my entire life is happening now.

And I am here to choose my experience.

My experience of now.

My experience of this.

Because now this is all that is.

TALK IS CHEAP

I have had a dynamic relationship to words and to speaking my entire life.

I was repeatedly punished as a child for talking too much. School and church teachers went to sometimes drastic measures to get me to shut up. My parents followed suit. I was literally beaten, grounded, had privileges taken away, shamed, shushed; all with temporary success.

I talked too much.

Truth be told I still talk too much.

I know that is what some of you were thinking.

And it is alright. It is true. I know it. And I mostly accept it.

It is rare that I have a conversation that I do not notice a program running about how much I am saying. I have a continual inner word count going that looks and feels a whole lot like my mother. It does not regularly slow me down. But I am aware that I am aware.

I enjoy the irony that while I was punished and diminished for the amount of talking I do I have made my living for over twenty-five years speaking in front of audiences and congregations. When I am not in front of audiences I am usually engaged in professional conversations. Or I am doing what I am doing now. Writing.

Now, I have indeed been accused multiple times of being too wordy in my essays and blogs.

I guess when you talk too much you also write too much. It must follow that my lectures are too long as well.

Oh well.

It is evident to me that this is where I should cut this short and end for a surprising example of brevity.

Well, just a bit more.

I admit to having a reoccurring fantasy in which I stop everything I do that is verbal. In my fantasy I inexplicably vanish, sitting silently on a mountain. Staring. Minimal inner commentary. Spacious mind, open heart, silent mouth. I would sit so long I might well forget what my voice sounds like.

Not today.

I do aspire to speak less in order to say more. I intend to only say things I truly mean. That I follow up with congruency and action. I want to become my word. Fully. I want to be a study in authenticity. If I say something I want to know and to be known by the fact that my word will be actualized. Realized. If I say I am going to do something I will do it. You can count on me being and doing what I say.

In order to accomplishment that I may need to indeed say less.

People say things to me almost everyday that I know they will never follow through with. I have gotten mostly past the need to judge that. I believe they believe what they are saying when they are saying it. I also know it will never happen.

Perhaps I am not the only one who needs to say less.

I see this as being most true when being told that people love me. It has become somewhat habitual in our culture. I guess it is better than many other things that could be word played. But it is so often stated with no or little feeling. And it is rarely followed up with action. It is seldom measurable. I hear the words, yet I do not feel the experience or see any kind of metric that lets me know it is true. Love is a verb, or it simply isn’t love.

If you are still reading this wordy missive, please hear that I am writing of a deepening commitment to be implemented by me and only me. You get to use words in any way you choose. I may recognize the lack of substance behind them. I promise not to mention that. I am just stating what I want to be more of. I do try and live what I teach about. I do it imperfectly. But I do continue to seek to become the principles and Truths I espouse. And I am committed to do that with all that I say. If I say it, I will do it. If I tell you I love you, you will see evidence of it. I will connect to those words. I want you to feel the reality of my declaration. I want you to have direct evidence. My words will be verbs.

It is said that talk is cheap. It is more often than not true. I want to use words you can take to the bank. It will require less words, and I am up to the task. Maybe this isn’t the best example of brevity. Sometimes it is hard to condense sincerity. But my inner word counter is aware. I may not yet be ready for silent mountain gazing, but I am more awake to the impact of my words and to the desire to be as authentic and congruent as possible.

With a new year fast approaching I am going to be saying less in order to listen more. I may not write for a while, just to allow for a deeper connection to the wordlessness within me. It may be time for me to re-examine all my speaking activities. As one who talks too much, perhaps it is nearing time to become still. I have been talking a long time. Maybe it is someone else’s turn.

I will likely always have a dynamic relationship to words and to speaking. I do suspect that the dynamic is about to change.

You have my word.