Knock! Knock!

My father is very dear to me.  He died when I was only fifteen years old.  I watched him wither away from the strong hard working man he was, to a bed ridden vegetable!  Cancer claimed my father’s life, but his sense of humor and mind went first.  I watched the most courageous man I knew clinging to any identity he could find, as death came knocking.

Seeing my father this way began my initiation into the spiritual.  As my adolescent eyes saw my father greeting the pain of Separation, Old age, Illness and Death.  I needed to know what the point of all this suffering was.  I thought of how I could prepare to greet such pain.  However, as a young misguided teen, surrounded by poverty, (like most here) I turned to the streets for answers.  But I only found misery, and more questions.

To find such answers we must be honest, and willing to see how we lie to ourselves.  Allowing the stories we’ve told ourselves to unravel, to uncover the truth.  This is most threatening, most terrifying, and most liberating.  This I find to be the reason why most will not sit and meditate.  They have grown attached to the great stories they’ve told themselves, which meditation brings up to the surface.  I know this, because I see it in myself.

That is why this Practice is so important.  Why I must have quiet time to myself.  So that I may ask myself “what am I becoming as the days and nights go by?”  My practice feels like it's bringing me closer to peace.  Increasing myself worth, allowing me to see myself and all my flaws with courage.  I am still a work in progress.  But progress is a good thing.  So, will I have the courage to greet death undisturbed?  I don’t know.

KNOCK! KNOCK!
“Who’s there?”
“The Conceit-”
“The Conceit Who?”
“The Conceit, I Am.”