Life and death

Some of us spend our lives wondering ‘what am I meant to do with my life?’

Looking at nature, it does not seem to me that this is a question asked among animals, perhaps their conscious mind is not developed enough, or not in that abstract way. And while not everyone wonders about such matters, many do.

What is my purpose? What is it that I am really supposed to do here? What is the goal of my life, what is it that I’m suppose to do with my time here on earth? We seek guidance, we look for clues, signs; we try tarot readings, meet with career counselors and personal coaches. We meditate on it, go on vision quests, refer to the i-ching, we pray for insight, to make the right decision. Let me not waste my life, let me do that which is what I am meant to do.

I we refer to great masters from the pages of history, such as Van Gogh, it is clear to anyone that knows his life’s story, that if he would come into earth today, most likely his mind would simply explode at the fact that he has become a famous world renowned artist. Vincent Van Gogh started to paint only at age 28, which back then was a mature age by all means. He was regarded as a serious weirdo by his surroundings, mocked by his neighbors and totally depended on his brother for his finance. He spent much of his adult life seeking metal help and searching for artistic recognition. He sold only one single painting in his life and his greatest hope was that people would learn to see his painting and see through it his own sensitivity. To us, having today’s perspective and knowing the way history has unfolded, it is clear that his hope not only came true but it excelled far, far far beyond his greatest expectations and hopes.

But he, himself on his deathbed, was he feeling good with his life, was he satisfied or dejected? Disappointed by his own achievements and place.

Who and what is to say? When, if ever, and by whom is one’s life, evaluated and judged. And what about happiness and a sense of interconnection to one’s own Self, how is that important, measured and analyzed.

It is not clear why and how history unfolds in the way it does, who gets remembered and for what reason, and even within one’s own time here on earth, I wonder what is it, that which makes one feel that they are truly living their life and accomplishing their purpose, or not.

I do find it is honesty, bold and bare, real naked and uncompromising honesty with oneself that is the key for real self-evaluation. That is the measuring tool by which we can hope to comprehend and reflect upon our own earthly time here, which have been given, for a limited time only. And by honest I don’t just refer to the normal kind of honestly, but to that deep and unforgiving one, that is not looking to please or comfort but rather truthful, laser sharp and strong. Courageous truth, to have with ourselves, that is a rare and precious gift. If we can openly and barely, with no pity, but with abundance of self-love, offer ourselves that real kind of truth, we are already blessed.

That kind of honesty is a gift to have not only in order to reach the finishing line in check, but to live by. To live from. It is an inner compass for self-aligns and it can gives us the correct vision for growth. For living not only day by day, between content and discontent, but living in faith, rooted in the ground of believing in ourselves and knowing that we are here for our own evolution. We are here to support that knowledge and protect that goal, with all our might.

No one lives forever but some leave with a feeling they have missed out. I believe that some leave feeling they were here, doing what they needed to do. I pray and strive to be among them not only at my time of death but throughout my days here too.

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