Long story short: I'm sick and I want to be home. Details are not relevant, but suffice it to say, I'm feeling a bit rudderless. When considering my practice, making decisions and just generally getting on with life, I rarely factor into the equation that I will get sick, I will not always be functional, and someday I will shuffle off this mortal coil.
These experiences should be a call to remembrance, a delicate movement toward becoming focused on the present moment, and the experience of joyfulness, but all I can think about is how bad my throat hurts and that I really want to be home amongst my known things and the love of my partner. I should be at home here, or in solitude, or in the midst of absolute adversity. I'm not there yet. I fear the life-lessons that will prepare me for that time.
So, here in the midst of miniscule suffering, I look toward the future knowing that this is gentle preparation for things that will come.
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