I don’t normally read inspirational stuff – probably a stress related by-product of my Deepak Chopra days. But I grabbed my Kindle and downloaded the freebie version of his book. I sat there riveted, so drawn in was I by his rational grasp of his mortality and his desire to let his young kids know the type of man he was. His words were powerful, and I’d like to think that I’d be just as honest and open about my impending demise.
But what to say? It’s not like I’m late for a train and reeling off last minute instructions while peeling out the door. The exit is permanent, and I’d never get another chance. What would I tell my sweet husband? My kids? I’m not talking about the usual platitudes of sure, honey, you need to remarry and the kids are grown now and will be ok. I’m talking about the things we normally spread out over a lifetime, those life lessons that impact the people we become. Do I have anything worth passing along? I’m not a philosopher, though sometimes I play one in literature, so what great tomes of wisdom would I have to pass on to my family?
Maybe that’s why I gave up reading inspirational books. They made me think too much and offered little in the way of answers. Of course, I know that the answers have to come from within, but I’m normally too rushed these days to contemplate the cavernous depths of my soul – though I do try to email it on a quasi-regular basis. Maybe Randy’s book will change that within me, and I’ll take more time to consider the really important things in life. Maybe I’ll stop and consider that there are still aspects within me that are worth passing along.
*Reiki hugs = 20