350 and counting...

15 Days In:

On January 1, 2009 I began the Year to Live practice, outlined in Stephen Levine's excellent book of the same title.

I set January 1, 2010 as my "death date", the day I am thinking about and creating my life around for the next 12 months. Well, 11.5 to be exact.

So why would I do this? Why would a perfectly healthy (as far as I know) 33 year old guy want to spend a year thinking and living as if it was his last?

I'm glad you asked.

In the last 12 months I have lost 3 people close to me; 2 mentors and a friend. Two of them died of cancer, one of them in an accident. None of them got to choose when or how they died. None of do, of course--but we forget that in the day-to-day hassles of life. We --at least in my case--let the 1,000 little stresses of our lives cloud our vision. We forget what's important to us. In short, we're usually so busy getting through the day that we forget to live.

But my friends who suffered through their illnesses were so present, so appreciative of what they had. Brave and resolute even in the depths of treatment, but aware that their time was limited and every second precious. I wish I had listened more closely to that upspoken lesson then, that I had spent more time on the phone, visiting, writing letters and emails to them. I wish I had one more day. Or even one more hour, or minute, to them them all how much I appreciate them and what they've meant to me.

That's one reason for taking on this practice--the awareness of life and it's endless opportunities to connect and drop our defenses. To be real and vulnerable and honest.

How often do we do that? How often do we miss that opportunity to connect with someone we love because we're too busy, distracted, worried, and so on?

I also had a 4 year relationship end-- with a woman who I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Coming on the heels of so much loss, it threw me into a shell-shocked form of mindfulness--a sudden and violent awareness of my own suffering as well as the suffering of others. An awareness so intense and so vulnerable that it was almost overwhelming.

In the past I would have run into the haze of drugs, alcohol and casual sex, usually leaving a trail of wreckage, confusion and suffering (mine and others) in my wake. And then I'd do it all again, running into the refuge of a relationship.

This time was different. I chose to live consciously, to suffer, to grieve. To be fully present with whatever was happening in that moment, no matter how unpleasant or painful.

It wasn't fun, by the way.

But it was needed. And now there is a new openess, a spaciousness that wasn't there before. A better and deeper sense of compassion for the suffering of others. A little less resistance and a little more acceptance, too.

And there is the pain of watching the slow decline of my father's health, and wondering how long I have with him. The experience of watching him always put his needs aside for others, and never living in a way that was true to his heart's calling.

Sometimes I stop and think, "What an amazing opportunity for learning I've been given". Other times I rage at the injustice of it all and hold my anger and suffering tightly to my chest like a long-lost and well-loved child.

The truth is, I am happier now than I have ever been. I have seen, really seen, how incredibly precious, fragile and beautiful our lives are. How close joy is in our daily lives--even when we can't see it. I am grateful even for the most painful experiences, when everything seemed dark and dead and I was choking on my own grief and suffering and thought I'd never feel anything good again. Even those moments are beautiful, precious and vibrantly real--and without them, compassion and loving-kindness aren't possible.

I have seen how we all ignore our Buddha nature, that which is best is us, and believe what we're told: that somehow, we are all inherently a little bit bad. That guilt and suffering are how we are meant to be. And I know none of that is true, and that we all have something within us that is pure and indescribably beautiful.

So in light of all that, I have decided "to live life deliberately", and to leave behind that life "of quiet desperation " that so many of us lead. That I have led.

I have decided to live fully every day, to love completely and honestly, to make amends and ask for (and give) forgiveness. I have decided to live every day with the awareness of my death over my shoulder, always there, whispering in my ear: "Pay attention. This is all you get."

I'll be writing about my experiences here and hopefully other places, if someone sees fit to publish any of this. :) Hope you enjoy the journey.