The End

I had a realisation; that when I leave this breathtakingly beautiful planet - it’s unlikely I'll be stressing about whether I had pleased all the people, or played it safe in order to never get hurt, or won any medals for being 'good' or pretty. It's unlikely I'll be on my deathbed caught up in whether I was a to-do list completionist, or gold medal validation seeker.

Perhaps the questions that will remain may be… Did I serve everyone I could reach, compassionately and wholeheartedly? Did I defend and uphold those without a voice, or turn away from inequity to take the easy road of apathy?

Did I allow myself to wildly inhabit this temporal body, to dance and sing and swim naked under the stars? Or did I fall prey to an inherited narrative of shame and unworthiness? Did I surrender to the epic peaks and troughs of intensity or did I shrink in fear and avoidance?

Did I stay curious and awe-struck at the incredible mystery of existence? Did I slow waaaay down to savour the being or did I speed through life in pursuit of doing? Did I express my soul's eccentricity without approbation, or did I dim my light in order to be kept warm inside the circle? Did I participate fully as though the soles of my feet were on fire? How well did I love? How fully did I forgive? How clearly did I see through the game of god self playing hide and seek with god self?

The moment will come - undoubtedly sooner than I’d like - when my time on this magical spinning rock will end, and Ill dissolve back into particle and wave, infinitely entangled with everything and everyone I ever touched...

...but no longer able to experience the miracle of water, the chaos of human love, the scent of violets, the glory of transcending tired stories, the whisper of ancient forests and mycelium, the mercy and grace that brings me to my knees...the rapture of ecstatic union.

And yes, being alive in this time of bewildering uncertainty can pull on strings that seem they might unravel us completely. The collective wounds are leaking battery acid all over the silken Persian rug...

....but this breath is holy, this life so outrageously precious, this ability to feel, smell, see, hear and taste anything at all such a rare and miraculous gift. May I wake up in haste when I fall under the dream spell of complaint and strife.

And if I don't... you have my permission to kick me.