Transient

You wake up, you go through your morning routine. Commute to work. Sit and do a job. You're working for money; you're dying inside. Days roll into days, into weeks and months. At night is dinner and trash, pay some bills and shower your kids. Then maybe a little TV or wine or weed - whatever you need to unplug from the monotony of what happens between 6am and 7pm. You're surviving but if you're honest you're barely showing up.

When was the last time you did something for yourself? Remember how you used to play guitar and make up recipes? Remember how you wanted to learn how to paint? See all those barely-opened books right over there?

What the fuck are you waiting for? The kids will never be less demanding of your time. Your significant other could always use more of your attention. There are always bills to pay and checklists to do (mine currently has about 23 line items on it).

"I think what we're seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonance within our own innermost being and reality, so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive. That's what it's all finally about." [Joseph Campbell]

See, you can drown in a sea of tasks that will get you to tomorrow, but will get you no closer to "the experience of being alive." And you know that you're postponing and making excuses for following your deepest truth - those things that make you glad to be alive. 

Take a moment and think about things that you would love to do, or experience, or be. Maybe it's something expressive or creative; a sport; some form of meditation or yoga; playful sexytime with your significant other; a new business idea. Commit to just ONE WEEK of spending at least 30 minutes a day on one of your passions. Schedule it and just see what you feel at the end of the week. If you feel like going back to merely surviving, then by all means. (Also, don't bother coming back to this website; you'll find nothing of use here.) 

Here I am writing a post to help encourage you on a night where my heart and attention are scattered. I don't have time for this shit. I have a wife and a child and at least 23 things on a to-do list. And I'm tired. But goddamnit, I love to write and to encourage and to connect deeper with a creative force that's bigger than myself. So that's what I'm doing. And for a moment - this moment - it is bliss.

What possible excuse do you have not to do the same thing? Get to it, friends. 

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