Georgia 

For my birthday in march one of my friends handed me the book The Alchemist. For those of you who haven’t read it, it is a tale of a boy following his passion and learning to trust that what is to come and what is supposed to happen will happen, because if someone puts their whole heart into something, the universe has a way of helping us achieve it.  Though I finished this book months ago, I recently ran into someone who reminded me of how true this small parable of a story was. As I have continuously written, the past and present never really exist, they are created by our own mind, all we really have is a multitude of presents. That being said, the other day I ran into someone who I will refer to as Georgia, a person who is a few years older than me, following a new path his heart and life have brought him to, road tripping across the U.S..  There is a piece of magic in meeting new people, in seeing their world be turned into words before me, of listening to the way they describe stories and situations they have been in, and of at the same time realizing you may never see this person again. This last statement leaves me distressed at times because I find connections such as the one I had with this person rare, moments where you are so absorbed in a conversation you seem to forget where you are and are disoriented when you stop speaking, but I have come to realize the purpose of this is to remind us to be present.  I love meeting new people, and always have, but I often wonder when and if these small moments will ever turn from singular to sequential, if the universe is setting these people in our path to stay with us and we often walk away, thinking that is the only thing we can do. I feel as though space and time are often excuses we tell ourselves because there is a small amount of fear in telling someone about who you are and how you see the world. But what if we didn’t? What if we are supposed to hold onto these people that come in moments? As I drive home from visiting my grandma who was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, I am humbled by the thought and reality that today is now, and now is what I have and what she has. we can stress that we don’t have jobs, that we aren’t married, that we aren’t getting a good grade, and that we aren’t living up to our potential, but in the end worrying isn’t stopping things from coming, it is merely stopping us from seeing the good right now in front of us. As I continue to move toward the next chunk of my life, I am constantly reminded by the people around me that life is not a set of coincidences, but rather a set of purposes. As Paulo Coelho wrote: “The simple things are also the most extraordinary things, and only the wise can see them,” it’s not until we step back and see them in such a way that we realize this.

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One thought on “Georgia 

  1. Michael

    Wow, to have this realization so early in life. My greatest teacher was a Harvard professor who had it “all” Money, prestige, position. All just illusions. In 1970 he wrote “Be Here Now” The concept of living in the present was revolutionary for a western mind. We were raised to hold on to the past and fear the future. If I am suffering in the present, it is soon the past and I am here at a new moment. This year I turned 60 and age and mortality are my present. It’s great! I can be deliberate. I can meander. I don’t need to be a consumer because the only thing they want to sell me are dentures and diapers and today I don’t need either. I meditate every morning to release any cobwebs my ego has developed and start the new day with a childlike sense of wonderment and joy. “What time is it?” NOW “Where are we?” HERE. It is so yummy.

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