As I sit in this empty house reminiscing the days I spent here living with both sides of my divorced family, I can’t help but to feel a certain nostalgia. There’s an appreciation, yet a slight sense of lethargy at the same time. This house will be sold in a week, along with many of the memories that helped shape the person I am today. I’ve donated or threw out half my life and am currently in the process of living with a friend until I figure out where ‘home’ is. The closer I get to the realization that this security I’ve known for so long hasn’t really been securing me from much, the more I feel excited about the possibility of not caring whether or not I fail or succeed in the eyes of other people. The more I’ve learned to shed all the things that kept me in the past, the more I feel inspired about shaping my future.
I’ve had two father figures growing up and not much of a relationship with either. My mother did what she could to provide direction, but the truth is I was more influenced by the people who didn’t have any. When I was younger I thought I had all the answers. I had read all the self-help and ‘spiritual finance’ books I could find, and figured if I wrote music and meditated occasionally that my house would transform into a mansion and a porsche would appear in my driveway. I hadn’t realized the level of responsibility that would be required to afford such a lifestyle, and to be honest, I fooled myself into thinking that it was the answer. The truth is I didn’t even know the right questions, but there was always a pressure I placed on myself to be busy, even if I wasn’t being productive.
People love to romanticize about what it would be like to have billions of dollars and whatever they wanted in an instant. I’ve got to admit that was my goal for the longest time. What I’ve found is that what’s much more important to me is the ability to live a fulfilled life, and if the goal was money itself, no amount would ever be enough for me to sustain that fulfillment. I would be continuously striving for a goal that was insatiable, and that my friends is the exact opposite of freedom.
One of the most profound lessons I’ve learned is that whatever it is you think you need lies your biggest fears. Think about it, what is it that we really need? Food? Water? Shelter? Health? Life? All of these things are only necessary because we as humans tend to fear death. What if we didn’t? What if we had come to a point where we feared nothing? I’m not saying that it’s possible for everyone, or anyone for that matter, but what would you do differently if fear didn’t matter?
The absence of fear is the absence of need. Do we need these things or are we just attached to them? Maybe we feel we need things or people because we haven’t taken the time to consider who we are without them. In an age of technological distractions and constant feedback, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to realize who we are. We are always defending the facade we create to fit in with other people who have no better answers about life than we do.
The interesting dichotomy I face is the wiser I get the more I realize I know nothing. There might not be anything at the end of the rainbow. And if there is something, chances are it’s not going to be any where near as good as you imagined it would be. The only thing I can say with certainty is that everyone has their own journey. And the more baggage you accumulate, actual or metaphorical, the harder it will inevitably be to successfully embark and complete that journey.
If you lost all of the things you’ve been accumulating throughout life today how would you feel? Perhaps you would have a nervous breakdown, or go on a bender and binge-drink your problems away. You would curse, complain, kick, scream, cry, and you would survive. You would realize everything is temporary, including your life. You’ve got to come to peace with the fact that you can love unconditionally, but without attachment. Once you’ve come to this realization, nothing can shake you. You can’t change the wind, but you can adjust the sail.