As the thunder quite literally rolls in around me--and the lightning quite literally fills in the night sky around me with charged, jagged forks of brightness--I want to sit for a moment, and reflect on what has transpired over the course of the past week or so. I feel like discovering read.cash was something of a "destiny-thing" for me, at least to a certain degree. And yes, I do recognize how trite and cliched and whatever-you-wanna-call-it that sounds, but it feels true to me in this moment.
I've always felt that I had the capacity to write--and not just that I had the capacity to write, but that I possessed some sort of inner voice that I was more connected to, more in touch with in a way. I've always felt like I have the promise of wisdom, around me and within me I guess, but being able to distill that intuition of wisdom, that sort of gut-type sensation, into anything valuable and anything tangible took a lot more practice and focused effort than I was used to, and I was often willing to give. And that's been the case for the majority of my years as a thinker and a learner and a creator. And, of course, there have been quite a few blessed moments where I have been able to harness this skill into something I felt was worthy of my ideals, but that's what they were--moments.
The promise of read.cash to me now is that I can build something more than just moments--I can build something sustained and long-term, something to make a life out of, something to drive me with inspiration and in turn become the outlet for my own inner drive. Why is this exactly? It's hard to say for sure. I'm sure the immediacy of the financial benefits is at least a part of the equation, but that's not really the point at all. The real point is that I'm doing it. For the first time, I think I'm really doing it--and that this "it" is something I can legitimately build on, as the present moment revolves into the future, and I find myself yet older, yet the witness of even more years.
That's the rub, isn't it? As my life has gone on, I've seen more and more years. It's just the way it goes, quite literally. But when those years pass you by and you get to thinking, and you start to worry about what you've been doing with that time, and where it all went anyway, and why does the temporal axis seem to be forever accelerating, and why can't I catch a single moment of damn pause and almost non-existent clarity.
Clear-headedness. That's what chasing your dreams can earn you. It's a stupid, silly, faux-motivational thing for me to even say, and I yet I really can't help but say it. I think it's true. I think, to the extent that I've lived it recently, it's just plain true that humans need, well, something to do. Some goal or objective to be striving towards, some cross to bear, in other words. Some responsibility to take up--and take serious. A little meaning in one's life.
Can I say I've found it, then? That ever elusive thing we call meaning? I'm frankly not sure. The very idea of being able to stand up straight and say, completely meaning it, "I've found a capital-P Purpose in my life that I feel utterly justifies any circumstances of existence" is a daunting one, and not one I'm totally convinced I could embrace at this moment.
But, in closing, I guess that's the beauty. The journey is still unfolding around me, and I get to live it now in real time. I will continue to see. I will continue living and striving and hoping, and working my damndest to harness (for maybe the first time, really) that inner wisdom. That secret teaching of all the ages.
