I want to live forever

Or else I'd be dead already

How to Live Forever

In about four months, I’m going to turn 40. Not old, but no longer young.

Do I want my years back? I don't think I do. I just don't want to have only half my life left, or even a third, or a tenth. I want all of it left. I want it to go on and on forever.

Why?

Not for watching YouTube, that's for damn sure. Not for pleasure, nice as it is.

For love. Love of my family, my friends, and all the people in the world I don't know but wish I did. All of them. I wish I knew everyone. Deeply, truly, to the fabric of their souls.

I want to see what we do. Don't you? How could we be so incurious? This world and its universe so full of mystery and mayhem. How could we not want to know it all? How could we not want to explore every corner? How could we be satisfied, ever?

I certainly can't be. And so I'm not going to diminish. I won't and I can't.

My days are wasted when I am not reaching. When I am not pulling all the things I can see and plenty of things I can't toward myself to bind my heart to them and see what makes.

Human attention is the great alchemizer, transforming whatever it touches into something higher and holier. This is the real transubstantiation, whereby the lifeless rocks of the ground upon which we walk and live are brought to life in the grand circus of our fevered meaning-making.

We will be gods. We are gods. And you cannot kill a god but by tricking him to forget himself. We forget who we are. We forget what we are. And so we waste, and suffer, and die.

I refuse this. Instead, I will grasp whatever will help me to abound, and live.

Suffering, OK. But what for? Something, rather than nothing. Life, rather than death. Abundance, rather than waste.

And I know the difference between good suffering and bad suffering. They're both hard, but only one of them suffocates your soul. Only one extinguishes the flame of godhood burning at the core. Only one tempts you to forget.

So bring on the good suffering! I'm kidding, please, I'll take only what is necessary, thank you.

But I will not die for lack of willingness to suffer. That is not the will of my highest self.

Kill the lesser parts of me. Cut them from the vine and let them wither. There is no room. There is no time.

There's too much living to do.