This is a post that has been brewing up for a while and Jonny's question seems to make an appropriate time to bring it up.
Why was I so compelled? How could I do something so heartless? Act like a happy asshole?
Well the short answer is death. During the last probably 6 months the idea of death consumed me. The realization that I was living in a dream world. Living as if I had some idea that I would just keep living for many years to come. The fact is that nobody knows when the scythe will come down. It happens in every imaginable way. Rather than facing this very real fact of life I spent my life distracting myself from this reality. Watching mindless TV, reading spiritual books that dance around this fact, working in a job that I wasn't satisfying.
I don't know if everyone could be as lucky as me to have this relationship with death. That's right, the luckiest guy in the world. Maybe it was more real for me because of my experiences. Not many people know, but I was pretty sick for a very long time. Since I was a teenager, I experienced a very odd sort of condition. I won't get into the sordid details of it, but I had some really scary symptoms. Doctors gave me medication and tests and never found out nor solved my problem. The symptoms were so scary that I really thought I had something majorly wrong with me. Death was always knocking, but I was always WAY too scared to really give it the attention that it deserved.
So maybe that is why this pull was stronger in me, but I suspect anybody..sick or well, happy or sad could develop an honest relationship with death and be as lucky as me. Lucky because when you take an honest look at your mortality LIFE becomes stronger. Colors are brighter, joy is more available because you know that you are no longer taking life for granted.
Jonny asks why did I do it the way I did. Why didn't I say goodbye and more interestingly why am I saying now that the support of my friends means so much to me? Great question Jonny! Keep them coming and I encourage everybody to ask me the tough questions…I need them.
Ok, so yes I did have an inkling that this would all happen. I wasn't sure until I got here, but my original idea was that I would have to disappear completely. Just like I actually did die. Leave without a trace. However, a very specific event happened in San Francisco that made me realize that this wasn't necessary. If you think this whole thing sounds selfish now, consider my original idea of just vanishing. What an asshole. I can relate the event if you are interested at some point, but for right now it doesn't matter. What does matter is that this event busted the whole thing wide open for me and is actually what led to me doing this blog. And also led me to a deeper appreciation of my friends and loved ones and I am so thankful for that. Talk about GRATITUDE.
If I left anything unanswered, please ask.
I think that the "very specific event" that made you change your mind about disappearing completely does matter--It's a key plot to your story here.
ReplyDeleteThe original question was "Why was it important to leave without saying goodbye? Isn't that a cowardly thing to do? (Fear as you say) Or did you REALLY have NO idea that you were leaving when you got out there?" You answer the part about having an "inkling" about leaving, but don't really say why you did it the way you did. Why in the world did you feel the need to disappear completely? I don't understand this in comparison to your relationship with death at all. People who are dying still say goodbye.
Also, the top line of your blog description ends with "I wanted to see if it works." If the "it" is dropping your life, how do you know if "it" works? What's the gauge or the desired outcome it is judged to be functional by? Or then what is the IT of the 'if it works?'
That's all I have for now.