The Body Is A Vehicle.
In life, you’re going to get a few bumps, you’re going to get a few bruises, you’re going to lose some teeth; the question is, how do you want to go out? Wheeled-in kicking and screaming, longing for a life you had wished you had lived, or sliding into home base with a bottle of wine in one hand and a chocolate bar in the other?
One of the most striking paradigms that has ever hit me came from someone I used to train with at my first martial arts school, “I want to slide into home base with a bottle of wine in one hand and a chocolate bar in the other.”
Though seemingly brash and displaying a blatant disregard for one’s own health, there's a lot of wisdom contained within that little (one might even call it an "Upanishad") statement. It’s not a question of "how you want to go out", but "how you want to live"…
One thing we often forget amidst the drudging grind of our day-to-day is that the body is going to "go", regardless — thus, it’s not the body, but the time spent while in it that truly matters. Did you love as much as you could have, did you go on as many adventures as you wanted to, did you eat as much cake, while being mindful to do some pushups, as you desired? Our life, and our bodies, are temporary. It’s what we do with both that really matters.
Coming to an age now where most of my peers have gone on to follow the commercial path of “a life sold to us by marketing,” I continually witness the masses following the exact same narrative: go to school; get a job; get a house; get a wife; get a kid; push that same narrative onto my child; feel like I’ve actually accomplished something (though, not always in that order). But what have we really achieved? A goal set forth by a narrative as positioned by insurance and banking institutions, or the goal we had always dreamed of ourselves as a child?
What dreams did you once have for yourself which fell by the wayside as soon as “reality” kicked in? What “dreams” do you now tell yourself in order to "fill the void" of the ones you had already given up on?
Visceral, but true. We are only given this one opportunity, this single string of moments, this transient body to do with what we will in life...
So, how do you want to go out? Wheeled-in kicking and screaming, longing for a life you had wished you had lived, or sliding into home base with a bottle of wine in one hand and a chocolate bar in the other?