The Misery of Living does not live here anymore.

What loss and challenging times can teach us.

The Misery of Living Doesn’t Live Here Anymore

The misery of living is believing that whatever this is will last forever. All the while, you know that everything you try to possess, everything you think you own, everything that feels good or bad will disappear.

I lost my mother, then my father, then my cousin to suicide, then my uncle, then my father-in-law in a relatively short period of time. I didn’t have time to grieve each one individually. It was overwhelming. I lost these beautiful souls who loved me, and who I loved. That is a well of grief that seems infinitely deep. There is a dying that occurs inside yourself when you lose someone irreplaceable. Someone by their sheer essence of being alive gave your life more light, more love, more meaning.

As I write these words, I can’t help but feel lost, as if a part of me has died.

But all the living needs to be lived. All the dying needs to die. So let it.

Feel it—again and again—deep within your body. Not somewhere else, but at the center. Feel how much you loved them. Feel how much you miss them. Feel what an impact they made on your life. Feel the loss. Feel the separation. Don’t ignore it. Don’t drown it. Don’t run away from it. Stay. Stay with it. Feel it. And when you’re ready, let it go.

Why Do We Fear Letting Go? Why do we try to escape?

We resist the present moment when its challenging or worse ,because we don’t think we are strong enough, brave enough, or that we have the right internal or external tools to cope.

But reality is reality, whatever that means to you in each moment. Denying what is creates suffering.

"But I don’t like this. I don’t like what my reality is right now."

It’s not about like or dislike. It’s not about gain or loss, happy or sad, winning or losing. It’s about this moment. It’s about staying present and not hiding. It’s about showing up for the misery and making friends with it.

That doesn’t mean you invite it to stay forever. If your record player is skipping, repeating the same misery over and over again, you need help. Get a new record to play.

If you’re blissed out when you meditate, don’t confuse that with everlasting reality. Circumstances change, and we don’t know when.

The Other Error We Make

We think we can do it alone.

But the reality is, you can do nothing alone. Everything you have has been given to you. If you can breathe, you have enough. That’s all. God provides the rest. The earth, the sun, the air—you assimilate them through your senses. You can’t last a single moment dependent completely upon yourself.

Get outside often. Feel the earth, wind, sky, and sun. Don’t do anything else—just be there. Take it all in. Quiet your busy mind. It takes practice, but the dividends are great.

Meditation is often misunderstood. People who haven’t felt the power of silence and nothingness (or more accurately, no-single-thingness) misrepresent it.

We neurotically think more must be done. More work. More rest. More eating, drinking, escaping. More friends. More workouts. More meditation. More dieting. More music. The list is endless.

But this "more" is a delusion. Just do what you do, then move on. There is no "more." There is only doing and moving on. Accept yourself and your predicament because:

It is what it is. And it’s not what it isn’t.

Flow With the River

Whatever this moment brings, it will bring. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Accept. Feel. Let go. Move on. If more needs to be done, do it. But don’t judge or beat yourself up for what you did or didn’t do.

This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t think critically or change course when necessary. Making good decisions is useful. But when you don’t? Let that go, too.

So, go with the flow of the river that is your life, and remember:

“You can’t step into the same river twice… or even once.”

So don’t delude yourself into thinking you can.

All the living needs to be lived.All the dying needs to die.

All the laughing needs to be laughed. All the crying needs to be cried.

All the helping is helpful. All the suffering—well, God is there too. Suffer it.

All the bad decisions were decided upon.

All your masterpieces were pieced together.

All your wins you won. All your losses you lost.

All that will be, will be. All that won’t be, won’t be anywhere to be found.

Trying to control everything is the root of suffering. You can increase your chances of success, but you will never get to 100%.

So back to the original statement: The Misery of Living Doesn’t Live Here Anymore.

Well, of course it doesn’t—after deeply understanding all of this. And, of course, that too will change.

So when the misery comes back, I’ll shake its hand and say:

"Nice to meet you. I’ll listen to what you have to say, but then you must go."

P.S. If these words don’t resonate with you, then they don’t resonate. If you think this is all bullshit, well, it is—because you think it is.

But if it does resonate, or I suppose even if it doesn’t I’d love to hear your thoughts. Did I miss the mark? Any work if done well leaves itself open to critique Let me know.