I like to start at the end. Which makes no sense after you realize that there is no end, no beginning, just “This.” The “Be Here Now” of “no time like the present,” even as we discover that a linear sense of Time is not absolute; where the future doesn’t exist outside of thought, because when we reach “it,” well, it is only ever “now.” But still, I like to start at the end, using philosophies, tricks, and slogans to stop the mind for a moment, to re-orient to what is really happening and worth my attention.
***
I was raised on a diet of “Would it matter in a hundred years?” An ironic teaching from the woman who worried for a living: my mother. A question about the relative importance of minutia. And in our family, a framework to hold the endless fretting about decisions– the seemingly simple “this one or that?” — the eye exam of Life — which could be considered ‘options’ or ‘choice,’ but instead just created a mild sense of panic: a mild sense of possibly making a mistake, of somehow getting it wrong. Even the simple decisions had a shade of foreboding, tho maybe it was the accompanying soundtrack of game show conditioning — the mental ‘buzzer’ and audience groan already humming in the background just before choosing the box on the floor instead of the curtain. Oh, and don’t forget about the door of (im)possibility. The gosh darn doors. The 1, 2, or 3? Which deal will you make with this decision? and “Would it matter in a hundred years?”
Since my mother’s death, I have added a new spin when navigating any seeming dilemma or turmoil: “Will I be thinking about this with my last breath?” Her death, inspiring my new prompt for perspective. And this question has such a beautiful way of stopping any drama, as it invites you to insert your quandary here. Insert any issue where you get hooked or stuck, and take a deep and final breath, “AAaaaaaaaahhhh.”
In this moment, will the paint color really matter? Or the scratch on the car? Or the size or shape or ‘look’ of my body, how it moves, or increasingly seems to sit this one out?
With my last breath will I even care about how good I looked on paper: my college GPA, credit score, bank account, or any sort of achievement that meant someone else thought I was doing ‘ok’ based on standards of worth that I didn’t set?
Will it matter if I ever made my point or got anyone to notice, understand, or agree with me?
With the last breath will I care about my story or my struggle, or have a need to repeat it one more time?
Will i fight for a sense of limitation with my last breath–give a damn about identity, or which box I checked, or even if there was a box for me?
With my last breath will I be so easily offended or so careful not to offend? Will I bow to social or political correctness, customs, policies, or senses of right and wrong that seem to change anyway with age, and over time?
Will i still be crushed that he never called back, or that I hit the ball into the net, or that I didn’t get picked for a team or love, as she chose someone else to be with?
and because this seems to be high on the list many days, with my last breath will it matter whether they ever got my drink “right” at Starbuck’s?
Yes. What will I be consumed with in my last breath?
Will i finally be paying attention to the thing that has always been with me, the thing that has always sustained me, the thing that is working perfectly without thought, and most important, working perfectly without ‘me.’: the breath?
With my last breath will i finally realize what it means to be present in the moment to Life? and folks, this would not be a sad irony, but rather the whole point. Whatever it takes. Even to the last breath.
***
I hear there are other ways that people (get) Back into Life. A friend tells me that she believes there’s a highlight reel when you die. You know, the Best of You? Where the best of you isn’t anything spectacular or Boy Scout Badge worthy. Just simply how you approached things, what you lived with in the everyday, how you oriented to Life. Mostly, how you spent your time behind what people could see.
She poses the question: what do you want to be watching on the highlight reel of you? Will it be a montage of the endless moments where you hemmed and hawed? The “save this for tomorrow?” The highlight reel of safe choices? Maybe dodging or holding back a bit? Maybe it will be a reel of the times you texted instead of making a call (and not simply because it was more efficient). Perhaps the ways you rationalized your behavior to make yourself look better? or so you could do what you want even at someone else’s expense? Or is it the highlight reel of reactivity? The screaming or agitation? Anyone for righteous Finger-pointing? Hours upon hours of ‘You You You You You, no, really it’s You!’ The endless shenanigans of ego on loop. The endless distractions and ways we try to protect ourselves from Life. And this is laughable because if you stop for a moment, you can already start to see the highlight reel that you are creating through your habitual patterns or behaviors, and well, would you want to pull up a chair to that? Because I can already see the trailer for that film now, and I love myself more with this awareness. The “yep, that’s me” and “there I go again.” So tender and sweet.
And when I welcome the shenanigans as just part of me, no problem, I’d watch that film, too. But even with the folly born of such total acceptance, is this very practical experiment: what am I contributing to the highlight reel, and is this really the film I want to watch? I know I’d prefer the version where I gave myself wholly to Life. Where little was withheld out of fear, where my movement and response felt organic and “true” for me, however it was regarded or labeled by others. Yes, the reel of authenticity, without any current or Final judgement. Pass the popcorn please.
***
So when in doubt, or hooked by distress, just lovingly ask yourself:
Would it matter in one hundred years?
Will I be consumed with, or thinking about this with my last breath?
What do you want to be watching on the highlight reel of you? (and are you living it now?)
Three simple questions that require no special skills, training, or time. Where the answer to the question is never as important as the invitation it extends: a sense of space — a realized gap — a time-out of habituated response. An Awareness of the incredible amount of freedom we have in each moment to live a perceptibly different “life,” simply through a shift in perspective. Just by making a decision — a decision that has nothing to do with a specific dilemma, outcome, or “box on the floor.” A decision only to widen the angle on whatever state we believe we are in. No other circumstances need to change, be handled, or managed. All that is required is allowing the possibility of a new relationship to the present.
I like to start at the end, and even this won’t matter in a hundred years.
LVL©2010