Our existence here does not last. But what does it ask of us? And how is this asking played out in our lives? We may resist it, but eventually this world consumes our flesh and bones. And what then will remain of our existence? Will our children bear the scars of our lives like some course sharpened metal that snagged them on their way up? Who will tell our story and what will it be?
If you are reading this now, this story is not yet complete. No matter where you have strayed, a larger life comes calling to you. It is relentless in it’s beckoning. Your response to this call echoes for eternity. This is your everlasting life and it’s voice doesn’t die with the eventual collapse of your vocal cords. It remembers what you lived for and what you died for. It has it’s own unique view of you, both harsh and forgiving.
This larger life doesn’t care that your favorite television show has been cancelled. But it remembers you excesses in ways you wish you could forget. And sooner of later you will succumb to it’s call and submit. And this larger life knows if you prostrated before an unnaturally long life or an everlasting one. This larger life is not your own, but ours together, interwoven into place with all things. The grandeur of this is a gamble for which tears are shed beyond our days. Whether these tears are of gratitude or of the grief of unrecognized abandon, they will be shed by those touched by this gamble for a larger life, regardless if the gamble is taken or not.
The force of character lives on. It is undefeatable, relentless and has a kind of durability that makes the body blush with envy. While gambling is involved, this is no card game that can be won. If it were, it would be open handed and you could only win by losing. This submission happens honorably for some, providing a kind of perfume, like graveyard flowers, but aromatic beyond the senses altogether. But far too often this honor is gambled away for some fur coat that hangs in a closet or some life extending snake oil for those trading a clear conscious for a personal privilege. Which is of greater value? Is there not greater joy and comfort in being interwoven in harmony with all things than the isolation of a cold coat of flesh? We all know the difference and pretending there isn’t one or that this is simply some shallow trifle is something that cannot be done without a huge psychic debt. It simply isn’t what this existence asks of us.
This invitation to a larger life is not some kind of gamesmanship. It is not a set of hoops, nor a point of negotiation. It yields no easy answers or provides any kind of money back guarantee. These things are a kind of poison that has been drunk for so long that it cannot be tasted. Submitting to a larger life brings a peace to discords that drain precious energy away from tending what is sacred. And at some point, eventually, the will to expend energy on discordant things weakens. When this happens, surrender to a larger life brings its joy like a song enunciating your true place in this world and beyond. Many smiling faces await your arrival there, but most of all, your own. Love is not some sharp tickle you get from being touched by someone’s company or absence. It is a call to action. It is an invitation to gamble what you thought was sacred for what truly is. It makes no time for detachment or contemplation. It does not plot, but it’s plot is evidenced beyond declarations. Feed from love’s source and helplessly watch as you become defenseless against its current, drawing you towards a larger life.