The other day I stood on my balcony and raised my right hand; I was about to smash it down on an otherwise defenseless table. I was on the verge of screaming obscenities at the top of my lungs. I needed to channel the intense pain I was feeling somewhere, anywhere. The pain endured in completing this dream is very real to me, it’s both physical and mental, and at times, all encompassing. I know that No Years Lost will be terribly helpful for a great many people, and one way or another, it needs to get done. Still, when you’re facing such paramount problems on your own, there’s really no place to vent, things build up and eventually you need to find someway to get it all out, or simply, succumb to the weight and give up. I stopped myself before bringing down my hand and embarrassing myself in front of my neighbors, though, inside I was dying.
I kind of stood there silently for a few moments before actually asking for a miracle. Do I believe in such things? Perhaps, there’ve been many times in my life when the pleasantly unexpected has occurred, sometimes it takes months or even years before understanding why one thing led to another. I wouldn’t necessarily say this falls into any sort of religious sense. Nevertheless, if there’s some place like heaven where good souls go after death, I’m fairly confident (after a stern lecture at the gates) that I’ve lived a life worthy of slipping in. If your behavior on earth is in anyway indicative of your final position in such a place, then that’s fine as well, because I’d rather not bake alone in a golden mansion with 72 sex toys anyway. Not only does that sound awful, it’s more than attainable while in this life. Give me a cabana next to the pool alongside the amazing woman I came up with, a sledgehammer to send my phone to that other place and I’m good to chill into forever.
Do things like miracles and the afterlife exist? I don’t really know, but then again, who really gives a fuck? If you live your life beholden to a set of rules that some other men, emphasis MEN, wrote many years before you, who possibly knew even less than you do about the matter, then you’re well deserving of the small and restricted life that those shackles will afford you. I’m by no means wishing to take a piss on religion. If it seems that way, I offer my sincerest apologies. As previously noted, perhaps I’m a believer as well, I just don’t believe with any certainty, because how can you?
I do however, know a little bit about this thing called, “resurrection,” which as it turns out, isn’t all that different than this aforementioned concept of the afterlife. I know this because I’ve died many times in my life and been reborn into another. When I speak about, “youth and eternity,” sometimes, “Eternal Youth,” in relation to No Years Lost, and I do so often, this is exactly what I’m referring to. The dreamer literally has to venture to the end of the line with their dreams, if they get there, then they are reborn into a new world where they also become creator. Occasionally, I forget this. The longer the journey to completion, the harder it becomes to remember. Of course this is figurative, life is linear, but while here, we have as many opportunities as we do seconds to be reborn.
I don’t generally discuss such things, let alone put it out on the Internet for everyone to sink their hungry teeth into. Yet, one of the reasons I created No Years Lost was for that very purpose and I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t use it in the same manner for which I expect others to do so as well. I built No Years Lost to help every imaginable hurdle a dreamer might face, one of which, is venting by sharing the journey, the creative process so to speak, and to be able to do so, amongst a tribe of fellow dreamers that are understanding and encouraging of those things. Why am I feeling so defeated at the moment?
Well, you see, I’ve got these two large glass doors in my house, like, 10 x 8, and both are covered in things I needed to get done before a June 24th soft-launch date, which is also written somewhere on one of those doors. There are probably a hundred things written on those doors, that list was put up about a month ago. There were lists before it whose items had been crossed off and then erased upon completion. The hundred most recent things are simply the larger all encompassing titles of grander problems, which are themselves, comprised by many less spectacular problems. In addition to that list, I keep a notebook on my desk next to my computer. In the last month I’ve probably added 40 pages. Juggling all of these problems in one mind, let alone coming up with solutions for each, and then executing, is an enormous and daunting endeavor. I missed the date. I felt myself slipping. I could sense a lifetime of judgment against myself.
For as long as I can remember, even before this dream, I’ve worked long and relentless hours everyday of my adult life. Today’s Canada Day here in Canada, a national holiday, and while my friends are running around the 6ix enjoying their day off, I sit attached to my computer (this kind of writing however is me taking a break.) My own life’s responsibilities don’t cease to exist just because I’ve chosen to pursue some dream that also has additional responsibilities. I often forget to eat, call my family, respond to friends, take days off, and so forth and so on.
The hardest thing in any of this, is being courageous enough to let your current life slip into the next. Letting go is generally the hardest thing any person can do. How can we know what’s next? It seems so fucking scary right? But here’s the thing, when you’ve created what’s next, you know exactly what’s coming, and exactly what you’re leaving behind. That list I’m staring down is simply the last of what I’ve got to let go of. I felt like dying the other day, because I was. I’m on the verge of stepping into this next world, the one I created, and I’m standing on the threshold, wiping my feet of the remaining shit from the previous journey before I step in. I’m nervous to enter this next life, but I’m also courageous enough to do so. I might already be there and my eyes are simply adjusting from the long and dark journey behind me.
What is it like being reborn? What does it mean to be resurrected? It’s hard to say, you’ll have to get there yourself, and I hope you do. Mostly, I promise to help you along the way, but before I can, there are just a few things left to do – today I’m working next to the pool, alongside the woman I came up with.