Do you allow yourself to relax?
I like to think I do.
I know the importance of relaxation, and I can so easily dish out the advice to a rushing-Ronny to chill out.
I’m certain there’s something in one or more of my own books about how rushing doesn’t get us anywhere, and how “there’s not enough time to rush.”
And yet how easily I fall into the trap of rushing away the magic.
Rushing out of panic - out of fear.
I’ve always felt like I’m running out of time.
I’ve spoken to others who share the same concern.
(One of whom died at the age of 22 - cancer’s work.)
We feel we need to do all we can, because life is a slippery ordeal.
What’s around the corner?
Knowing would spoil the surprise.
(Can I have a clue?)
Many years ago, a friend asked me, “Gav, what would you do if you were diagnosed with cancer?”
“Smile and say thanks,” I said.
Such a smooth talker.
The truth is, how on earth would I know how I would react to such news?
I’m reminded of a story Ram Dass shared:
A warlord comes to a village and kills everyone. There’s news of an old monk who won’t leave his temple. The warlord storms over to the temple and approaches him.
“Don’t you know who I am?” cries the warlord. “I could run this sword straight through you, without blinking an eye.”
The small, old monk looks up at the warlord, smiles and says, “Don’t you know who I am? I could have your sword run through my body and not blink an eye.”
The warlord, amazed and speechless, bows and leaves.
Do I fear the warlord’s sword?
If so, who does that fear belong to?
The monk knew.
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