Retrospective or Requiem? Well, that just Depends. Pt III

I was, and in fact still am fond of stating that I write for the same reason an alcoholic drinks.

There was a time when I was so compelled to write, that it supplanted almost everything in my life.

It was like draining a wound to let the bad blood out.

In the process I re-discovered a life I had forgotten existed.

Two years ago, a severe back injury taught me how to transform extreme pain into a form of sexual or even spiritual ecstasy, but in the process, the inactivity of prolonged hours of meditation and out-of body travel resulted in a very large blood clot that traveled to my lung.

In the course of my diagnosis and therapy, I developed pneumonia, which later revealed a tumor, which proved to be benign, but not until the biopsy caused my lung to collapse.

The ordeal seemed as if it would never end, and night after night, not knowing if I would live or die, I refused to pray to a God in which I did not believe, and so I was instead left to contemplate some meaning or direction in which to take my life if I somehow managed to survive these tests of will and spirit, and in so doing, I was transformed.

Decades of Zen meditation now seemed more theoretical than real as I reflected upon the dramatic and emotional panorama of my life thus far.

I asked myself, “What is missing?…Is it possible to ever be happy, or at peace? Is there just one thing I could change, if I was given the opportunity?”

That first night, I suddenly realized it was Compassion, and in the process, my life began to transform.

My anger and frustration were replaced with compassion.

The next day, after surgery, I discovered Gratitude in a way I had not previously known. Although previously, as much as I thought I understood gratitude, it was as if it all had been theoretical, but not so intensely personal and real.

I finally learned that I did not have to resort to intimidation to get what I thought I wanted, and that I was now naturally inclined to explore the innate persuasiveness of charm.

The angst of twenty-first century schizoid man’s existential dilemma had been replaced by Compassion and Gratitude, but I still sensed that something was missing.

A therapist I was seeing introduced me to Eckhart Tolle’s “The Power of Now”. 

For many years, I had come to believe that the present moment was a mere theoretical construct that existed in the virtual space between the Past and the Future.

Although it had allowed to transcend great pain on numerous occasions, and introduced me to the Emptiness that Tibetan Buddhists refer to as Śūnyatā, it was now as if all my philosophical constructs had been turned inside-out, and in the process, I began my quest to free myself of the tyranny of my thinking mind.

Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei…

Sayonara Y’all….

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

06/21/2018

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