I asked my mentor what I could do to achieve my next goal, and he suggested I write the narrative of my life, my epic, from the perspective of my death bed. What did my life look like? Did I live a life of fulfillment? Only then, he said, would I be able to look at my next goal and know how best to get there.
I have lived a life of laughter, of joy and endless exploration. I have travelled many lands and seen many skies, and fallen in love a hundred times as I’ve changed from man to man a hundred too. I’ve taken my interests and like clay, played with them in my hands, torn them apart, squished them together, investigated their every crevasse and cherished my creations like the night cherishes the moon. I have smiled at the beautiful women that passed me by, and those that even for a moment crossed my path I likened and sparked a conversation, if for no other reason than to enjoy the happiness of now. I have let myself lay every day, if only for 5 minutes, to simply breathe and enjoy my existence, and I have known when to push myself to find an answer for which I sought an interest. Material possessions were not my conclusion. Only knowledge. The knowledge of the world in which I was one small part.
I have used my skills to tell stories of my travels, both around the globe and within. I have told of my pleasure and my pain, my victories and my defeats, drawn back as a narrator would, always seeing the arc of my life as the true brilliance and art. There is no knowledge in the possession. Only in the journey to its aim.
I have lived a life of contemplation, but one of willingness to share nonetheless—for what is knowledge truly without another ear to hear it? Some knowledge, however, you must keep to yourself, and only share through modest questioning, as not every lesson can be taught. The most important ones must be found; you cannot give others all the answers.
I was a guide while I still wandered. I was an expert while still in wonder. That is the key. You will never reach the end of knowledge. Knowledge is a the dancing partner of infinity. So you might as well share along the way, otherwise no man is truly qualified.
I also did not settle, but held no hardness in my heart either. I spoke and listened with patience, I lived open and willing. I learned from my mistakes and I never, ever, let fear win the final fight. I always fought again. Will always fight again. For fear will win sometimes but he need not win forever, and is easily defeated with persistence.
I have trusted my intuition, for my eyes often deceived me. Do not fall victim to this trap, as the eyes are as untrustworthy as a salesman with cunning intentions. Your heart is where true insight resides, and I have been quiet often so that I could hear it. A woman too gorgeous, a home too large, a man too sharp—“too” is nothing but a faulty tag on an overpriced perspective. Believe it not. All in life is equal. The older you get, the more you realize everything is on sale, and your entire life you’ve been paying a premium.
And what of love? Love exists in the way you tie your shoes in the morning, the way you prepare your breakfast and clean your dishes. It exists in the air of each morning breath and even bumps and pushes you on the rush hour transit train. Love is your awareness of this epic unfolding blink by blink. It is the appreciation for your own novel, crafted with each beat of your heart.
So fear not, for all is perfect already. You are exactly where you’re supposed to be. And if you ever worry that you aren’t there yet, ask yourself where “there” is, and remember me. Remember that from the time I was born I have asked myself this same question—“Why am I not there yet?” Only now, I am there. I am right there, about to fade. And all I could ask for now is one more day. One more laugh. One more breakfast. One more exploration and knowledge that I’m alive.
So what does that tell you if I am there, I am where you wish to go, and yet all I can still ask for is another day?
The secret is that “there” is really “here.” Here, is everything. Everything you could ever want.
Beautiful, isn’t it?