Living Long, Living Passionately. Karen Casey

being who she has always longed to be. The power of this exercise cannot be overestimated. Who we see, we can be.

      Who do you want to be now?

      18

      Take a Day Off

      In this world it is not what you take up but what you give up that makes you rich.

      —Henry Ward Beecher

      What a foreign idea to most people. The ownership of stuff is how wealth is generally measured. The more one has, the richer one must be. But I sense a growing trend among some. It seems that baby boomers and seniors like me, and the generation just entering the workforce, value the less material: nature, the mind, spirituality, the family, play, solitude, and even the choice to do nothing at all for a time. This trend, though still limited in scope, is not invisible. Nor has it failed to make an impression. And for this I think we can breathe a sigh of relief. It's suggesting that we take a timeout. Everyone. Our worth is not in our stuff or our accomplishments.

      What's the point of this book, then? you might be thinking. It's time-consuming to read. It was time-consuming to write. Obviously I'm not sitting on the sidelines resting in solitude. I'm held fast to my computer, day in and day out, exploring a wealth of ideas, some of which I share with you, the reader. But I take time away too. And I'm making a practice of extending those times. I want to practice that which I see being preached by the enlightened few. Enriching our lives with the nonmaterial is creating a space for new growth, new awareness, new habits. Unfortunately, old habits die hard. And I am very practiced at my old habits. Like many of you, no doubt.

      The title of this book, Living Long, Living Passionately, is shorthand for the philosophy that has claimed my heart. Frankly, at seventy-five, I have rather easily accomplished the living long half of the title. And I do expect to live another decade. Maybe two, in fact. Living passionately has not been difficult either, while working. I love my work, whether writing, speaking, planning, or creating a program. However, I want to cultivate more passion around doing nothing. Nothing at all. And I'm not sure I can do that with ease. Time will tell. What I am doing here, now, is offering you suggestions that I need to also do, right along with you, the reader. I am making suggestions for how to experience the quieter, less intense life. The desire to slow down has surfaced many times in my life. I have been telling family and friends that I am going to retire. Someday soon. But the way to slow down, let alone retire, lacks clarity. But here goes . . .

      To begin, let's greet the day expectantly, together. And then let's pause, long enough to invite the God of our understanding, whomever that might be, to have a say. I suggest that we sit in silence, with our eyes open or closed, for no less than ten minutes. During the time of silence, imagine God, or a guardian angel if that suits you more, conveying to you her hopes for us today. If nothing seems to come at first, let's be patient.

      Now let's write for five minutes about whatever we are feeling. If you received a message, share that. If nothing came, that's okay too. But before abandoning this quiet time, let's thank our Higher Power for the love and protection we are offered daily, even when we are not aware of it.

      Perhaps you aren't sure where I'm leading you in this essay. I simply want you to slow down. I want to slow down too.

      Life doesn't need to be lived in the fast lane. Make a decision right now to do nothing all day. And if you can't commit to this because of an important engagement already on your calendar, take tomorrow off. Completely off.

      This is my day off. I will catalogue in my journal all the ideas for things to do that I am willing to discard, for this one day only.

      How do you feel taking charge of your life today, discarding all that you had previously felt you simply had to do? What images come to mind that illustrate this new freedom? Compose an affirmation that you can return to at any moment, on any day, when you realize you are about to do something you have no real passion for.

      Feelings?

      Images?

      Affirmations?

      And before leaving this essay, I want you to thank yourself and your Higher Power for being willing to change directions. What you did, what I am also working to make a practice of, is to literally step aside, close the door, little by slowly, on the work I so lovingly do, day in and day out.

      We are all the better for it. One and all.

      Now take a long, slow breath and let the inner joy rise up.

      Thanks be to God.

      19

      Now We Can Really Live

      Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this... ? Because you are having it.

      —Eckhart Tolle

      Every one of our experiences is specific to us. Every single experience! Tolle knows this. So does the God of our understanding. The wisest philosophers throughout history would quickly agree too. What a profound idea. What a simple idea. And what a comforting idea when we lean in to it. It clearly means there is no reason to question any experience. Or to shrink from it. No reason to deny any experience either. Or doubt it. And certainly no reason to waste time categorizing our experiences as those we need versus those we don't. They all have made their visits as divinely orchestrated, at the right time, and in the company of the right teachers needed for each specific lesson. This is a statement you can take to the bank!

      Are you currently happy? I surely hope so. Your past has delivered you to this point, an encounter with me, as a matter of fact, through the pages of this book, and it's my intent to help you squeeze understanding and joy from your past. I believe this will ready you for finding more joy in every lesson that lies just ahead.

      And if you aren't happy right now, perhaps it's because you are feeling anxiety about the undetermined future. If you have forgotten that every person, every past experience, every past moment was “wearing” your name, you just might be wallowing in doubt about all future moments. Couple all of those feelings with entering your sixties or seventies, and you may be fretting that there is not much of the good life yet to live. But I say, on the contrary. Now we can really live. We are free from the uncertainties of the past.

      Before getting bogged down in doubt, suspend any disbelief you might have about the necessity for each of your life experiences for a moment, and begin a list in your journal of a few significant experiences that have occurred in the last twenty or so years of your life. My point is for you to see how divinely orchestrated our experiences were and are, leading us from one to another, nary a coincidence among them.

      After a list of ten or fifteen has come to mind, take each one and close your eyes, envisioning it as it was. In some, you will recall and relive the drama. In others, you may feel the angst or the sadness all over again. But purposefully they arrived, were absorbed, and then departed, readying us for whatever was to follow. Always readying us for the next encounter.

      Surely, that format for our lives (i.e., the specificity of how events unfolded) won't change. But we can assume a more active role as co-creators of our future experiences, if that appeals to us. Let's dream.

      How do you want your remaining years to look? What comes first to mind when you envision them?

      How do you imagine a particular change might affect other people and ancillary experiences? What will your “picture” look like as it unfolds?