How Do I Live Life to the Fullest?
Do you ever get the feeling someone is just waiting for you to die? And I’m not talking about an angry spouse who seems obsessed with where you keep the life insurance policy. I’m talking more about an over-zealous, impatient new soul who desperately wants it to be their turn.
Their turn at what? At life, of course.
I’m living my life. I am making plans and designing dreams and at the same time trying to live in the moment, just like Eckhart Tolle would have me do. And once in awhile…okay twice in awhile if I had to be honest, I go numb and dumb. I struggle with my existential need to ask why. It sounds something like this…
“Why am I here? Why does any of this matter? Why haven’t they outlawed corn syrup yet?” And what usually follows is “I don’t feel like doing it. I’m too tired to do it. Let someone else do it “ - whatever IT is, which almost doesn’t matter… then, “Is it just me or does this day feel really looong…is it dinnertime yet? Is seven-thirty too early to go to bed?” I convince myself that it’s never too soon for slumber, as it is necessary for survival! Having justified my decision to sleep, I settle down for my cozy eight-hour coma. And when I lay my head on the pillow and close my eyes, this is the image I see behind my still pulsating lids…
The image: a mob of people at the starting line of a big race. Fanfare.
This is what happens:
I’m running what I think is a marathon. I’m keeping a decent pace but I’m feeling, quite frankly, a bit bored by the whole event. I’ve been running for a while and with every passing meter I’m noticing less and less the majestic mountains in front of me and more and more the dusty earth choking my lungs and getting my new Nike Lunar Chenchukkas dirty. All of a sudden I get the strange feeling that I’m being watched. I look over my shoulder… and there they are.
Same image…the mob of people waiting at the starting area. They are on their mark, anticipating with great excitement, the resounding gunshot that will catapult them forward. This time I view them less as people and more like souls…souls with sneakers on. They mean no evil; they’re not rooting for my demise. They’re just…ready. They’re itching to get their turn. And I consider the idea that I must have been one of them once.
Their enthusiasm and envious longing to get in the race seems to at first inspire anger in me. This anger soon clearly defines itself as a cynical, embittered antagonism. I want to tell them, “Calm down for God’s sake…it’s not what you think. Your overblown expectations are a clear sign of your pathetic newbie ignorance and downright stupidity. You have no idea what it’s like on this track…the obstacles that keep getting in the way. It’s dangerous out here!”
They envy my present moment and the truth is I envy their future.
Their presence and the pressure of them watching and waiting and trying their best to be patient, is having a profound effect on me. I tell myself, “One of those souls is waiting specifically for me to finish this race. I wonder who exactly in that crowd is my successor. Which one of them is waiting for me to die?"
I turn my head away from them and try to focus on the path in front of me. My eyes start to make out the view of the mountains again but this time in much more detail and with greater focus. The earth I kick up no longer chokes me but provides comfort with its familiar smell and taste. I start picking up my pace. Not too much. I don’t want to go too fast and miss anything; I just want enough forward energy to keep my endorphins dancing. I take a deep breath and leap over a fallen branch that’s in my path. I’m back on track, so to speak. I can still feel their energy behind me but it no longer unnerves me. Instead, it gives me a feeling of privilege and pride; an appreciation for all the moments that add up to “my turn.” And as I jog on, I’m conscious of the fact that what I have, this life, will one day end so that some new eager soul can get their shot at it.
I open my eyes and look at the clock. It’s seven forty-five. I get out of bed; put on my shoes; grab a flashlight and head outside in search of a mountain.
