The Clarity of the Present

Weekly wisdom to level up your creative life in 3 minutes, for free.

A SHORT STORY

This weekend, I sat with my Dad, knowing his options for cancer treatment were running out. It was a quiet time, filled with the kind of clarity that only comes in moments like these.

As I sat there, a few truths settled into me.

The first was this: the present is the only thing that matters. Not yesterday. Not tomorrow. Just now.

Then, there was this saying: “A healthy man wants a thousand things; a sick man, only one.” I’ve heard it before, but now it feels sharp, undeniable.

And then, a quote from Thích Nhất Hạnh came to mind:

"Even before you do anything to help, your wholehearted presence already brings some relief, because when we suffer, we have great need for the presence of the person we love.

So what you can do—right away—is to manifest your true presence to your beloved and say the mantra with all your mindfulness: 'Dear one, I know you are suffering. That is why I am here for you.'

And already your loved one will feel better."

That stayed with me. Just being there, fully present, is enough.

Finally, the most universal truth of all: we will all grow old, and we will all die—like the turning of seasons.

In this moment, my Dad is my teacher. As he faces his own ending, he leaves me with the most profound question: How will I live?

Who needs your presence this week? How can you show up for them?

A PIECE OF ART

“For Calling the Spirit Back from Wandering the Earth in Its Human Feet” by Joy Harjo

Put down that bag of potato chips, that white bread, that bottle of pop.

Turn off that cellphone, computer, and remote control.

Open the door, then close it behind you.

Take a breath offered by friendly winds. They travel the earth gathering essences of plants to clean.

Give it back with gratitude.

If you sing it will give your spirit lift to fly to the stars’ ears and back.

Acknowledge this earth who has cared for you since you were a dream planting itself precisely within your parents’ desire.

Let your moccasin feet take you to the encampment of the guardians who have known you before time, who will be there after time. They sit before the fire that has been there without time.

Be respectful of the small insects, birds and animal people who accompany you.
Ask their forgiveness for the harm we humans have brought down upon them.

Don’t worry.
The heart knows the way though there may be high-rises, interstates, checkpoints, armed soldiers, massacres, wars, and those who will despise you because they despise themselves.

The journey might take you a few hours, a day, a year, a few years, a hundred, a thousand or even more.

Watch your mind. Without training it might run away and leave your heart for the immense human feast set by the thieves of time.

Do not hold regrets.

When you find your way to the circle, to the fire kept burning by the keepers of your soul, you will be welcomed.

You must clean yourself with cedar, sage, or other healing plant.

Cut the ties you have to failure and shame.

Let go the pain you are holding in your mind, your shoulders, your heart, all the way to your feet. Let go the pain of your ancestors to make way for those who are heading in our direction.

Ask for forgiveness.

Call upon the help of those who love you. These helpers take many forms: animal, element, bird, angel, saint, stone, or ancestor.

Call your spirit back. It may be caught in corners and creases of shame, judgment, and human abuse.

You must call in a way that your spirit will want to return.

Speak to it as you would to a beloved child.

Welcome your spirit back from its wandering. It may return in pieces, in tatters. Gather them together. They will be happy to be found after being lost for so long.

Your spirit will need to sleep awhile after it is bathed and given clean clothes.

Now you can have a party. Invite everyone you know who loves and supports you. Keep room for those who have no place else to go.

Make a giveaway, and remember, keep the speeches short.

Then, you must do this: help the next person find their way through the dark. 

Grateful,

Michael