Rejoice, you’ll be dead soon.
That means that every moment from now on is more precious, more worthy of your full attention, your loving presence, your gratitude.
The dream of ‘more time’ can make us complacent, send us to sleep.
The shock of realising our absolute impermanence can wake us up.
Come on. Be sillier today. Let your heart pound and be penetrated today. Make a fool of yourself today. Give up the hope of finding happiness in the future, and break open into the happiness of this holy day, this only day.
You don’t need more time to be present. You’ve been given another day. Life is a gift.
– Jeff Foster
Any image of the future is an image, and that’s the only place I can find the future. When these images are invested with energy – when they are unconsciously associated with sensations in the body – they seem real. They make the future seem real to us, and a particular future seem real. There is nothing wrong with that. It’s understandable and is even helpful to some extent. And at some point, we are invited to take a closer look. When I recognize that my images of the future
First, I may recognize that my images of the future are images while they still have a charge to them. They may be seen as images, and felt as more real and solid than that. Then, as I separate out the images and the sensations, and examine each at a time (and take time to feel and allow the sensations), the two may separate more naturally and the charge of the images lessen or releases more completely. My images of the future are recognized as images, and since the charge is less or not there anymore, they also don’t feel so real and solid, or they don’t feel real and solid at all.
This is an ongoing exploration. Images about the future come up. They may feel real or have a charge. I explore them with gentle curiosity. Something shifts and something in me becomes more aligned with what’s actually there. (Images and sensations.) And then something else may come up I am curious about, including images about the future.
I also wanted to say something about “the dream of ‘more time'” that can make us complacent. When our images of the future seem real and solid, it’s easy to put off things into the future. When they are recognized as images, it’s actually easier to do things right now. After all, that’s all I have. If I want to love an unloved part of me, there is no time like the present. There is no time other than the present. If I want to rest with what’s here and notice it’s all already presence, there is no time like now. And that’s the same with anything else. Of course, this goes along with a trust that if something is important, and it’s not happening now, it will happen in “another” present. (Aka in the future.) And if it doesn’t, that’s OK too.