Now that’s what I call momentous

Now that's what I call momentous

Sitting in yet another waiting room in a Spanish hospital, in fact the same waiting room in the same hospital as last time, just a different reason and event – two whopping great infected spider bites about to be sorted - and just in case you were moved to, as much as I'd genuinely, not just saying it, appreciate the get-well sentiment, don't email or message to wish me better because by the time I'd get them I'll already will be – or I'll be dead – either way I won't have time to respond, for being right in the thick of the finalizing process of AMPED Volume 2 and now having been set back a day, or failing them being able to fix me, for being dead and hence out of the time-frame altogether – and I always find these places creatively stimulating – the thrill of watching the numbers on the screen change very slowly – we're on 16 right now, and I'm number 56.

Maybe it's the intensity of the tedium, maybe it's the awareness, the reminder that behind all the I'm-alright-jack faces of everyone in the outside world, lies a whole realm of pain and imbalance, now clearly visible, and that despite our near fanatical focus on the mundane, it's actually the metaphysical plane holding sway here.

As in no matter how cleverly, carefully, boldly, meekly, sensibly, or crazily you play it, you're not getting out of here alive, no one does.

The universal law of detraction states that eventually everything of the mundane world, in-cluding even your body, personality and shoe collection will be taken from you.

So why do we all make such a big deal of the mundane?

Because that's where the action's going on while were on Earth, and to dance it well you need to pay attention.

However, what we're generally not taught as kids is that to truly prevail, to truly succeed in living the richest, most rewarding, most prize-worthy life possible, you have to maintain dual-level cognition. You have to remain fully cognitive of the fact this is all only a game you're/we're playing, so you don't lose your sense of proportion and can maintain grand-view perspective, yet simultaneously apply yourself with all of you brought to bear on the game and specifically the move at hand.

Otherwise whilst you may have front and be playing the mundane game with due swagger on the surface, your actual experience will resemble the fronts of buildings on a film set, which turn out to have no backs at all – useful for scene-setting (including having enough hustle to get the money to pay for the look), but otherwise hollow and useful for nothing much beyond that.

Conversely at those times you find you're not playing so well – happens to everyone – you're able to more easily maintain grand-view perspective and so not waste precious life-force fret-ting and getting anxious, because you know things'll either swing round or you'll die before they do, then it won't matter if they don't anyway.

Don't for a moment though assume I'm encouraging a fatalistic, nihilistic approach to peeling this onion. Quite to the contrary, I'm advocating moving along as if each step might be your last, hence remembering to value and enjoy even the most commonplace, familiar occurrence or scene, because for sure after the body and its sense organs pass away you'll soon realize how uncommon even the most common seaming views are/were.

The value of valuing each moment, aside from making you feel high on appreciating life, is that when moments feel valued, just like anyone else, they tend to be far more generous and amenable to you.

In other words, value the moment, and the moment will value you.

Appreciation of this gift of life, this greatest gift of all, without which no other gift is possible to receive and experience, is the name of this game.

And I appreciate your being here and reading this, assuming you still are, in which case, my respect, thank you, and may each and every moment henceforth value you to the hilt and ges-ture so by showering you with all the gifts possible in any given moment, moment after moment – now that's what I call momentous.

Incidentally I'm not dead, am sitting back in my studio again ready to start work, writing this to you, bites all sorted and person in full continuance mode.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *