Just got off the phone with my boy Ray.
He's obviously lost a step or two. Only one in the A.M. and he's already too drunk to speak. I imagine he's praying to the porcelain god right about now.
I myself (and no one else) took a nap after work. So me, my glass of whiskey, and my 20 pack of cancer giving friends are still up and, if not going strong, at least going.
What to talk about?
I'm disappointed. I'm disappointed that there isn't enough time in this life to listen to all the music deserving to be heard, read all the books worth reading, write all the words worth writing. Not enough days to to visit all the great museums, not enough money to go everywhere worth going (pretty much everywhere except Borger Texas).
A woman, crazy but wise, talked to me once of life and it's meaning. "Love" she said, "the purpose of life is to Love and Love well."
"Not true," I say. Life is living, love is but a part.
And now the babble.
I started speaking of God. I deleted it. I believe, but it's not necessary. Let us instead, speak of life as a work of art.
Life is to be lived and created day by day. An infinately malleable medium to be shaped in whatever way we want. Our tool at hand is the present, our Loves, our hates, our disappointments, our dreams. Notice, Love is a part, but only that. A life is the culmination of every experience that has come before. To deny broken hearts and loves lost, anger and pain, failure and hope, is to deny the greater part of life.
Wisdom is only experience listened to.
I would imagine, that on his death bed, the wisest man to ever live felt as a child, knowing that every door walked through, every experience absorbed, only scratched the surface of true understanding. Our time too limited, our hearts too fragile to experience the totality of all that life offers.
But what about now?
We are all one decision away from changing the path of our lives. One fear overcome, one hope pursued. We must realize that nothing is guaranteed except the opportunity to exist. A dream pursued and attained is wonderful, a dream pursued and never achieved is better than a dream left unexplored.
In those last moments of life, what will we regret? Will we lie there covered in shit and piss, wishing we had worked more, drank less, bought more, taken fewer chances with our time here on earth? Maybe gotten more sleep? If only I had bought the blue microwave instead of the beige? I doubt it. We will regret the chances untaken in love, life, and all it entails.
I have lived a good life, better than I deserve perhaps, but I know there is far to go, fears to overcome, loves, losses, and regrets to gather. I for one look forward to it. It's a great journey, and God grant me the grace to live it truly and appreciate it for the gift that it is.
If you fall off a building, and perhaps we all do at some point, will you scream all the way down? Wouldn't it be better to grab your breath and enjoy the ride? It all ends in the same place.