sexta-feira, 23 de maio de 2014

Don't regret Life

«Bronnie Ware says; for many years I worked in palliative care. My patients were those who had gone home to die. Some incredibly special times were shared. I was with them for the last three to twelve weeks of their lives. People grow a lot when they are faced with their own mortality.

I learnt never to underestimate someone’s capacity for growth.
Some changes were phenomenal. Each experienced a variety of emotions, as expected, denial, fear, anger, remorse, more denial and eventually acceptance. Every single patient found their peace before they departed though, every one of them.
When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again. Here are the most common five:
1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

This was the most common regret of all. When people realize that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honored even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.
It is very important to try and honor at least some of your dreams along the way. From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realize, until they no longer have it.
2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.

This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.
By simplifying your lifestyle and making conscious choices along the way, it is possible to not need the income that you think you do. And by creating more space in your life, you become happier and more open to new opportunities, ones more suited to your new lifestyle.
3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.

Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.
We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level. Either that or it releases the unhealthy relationship from your life. Either way, you win.

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

Often they would not truly realize the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.
It is common for anyone in a busy lifestyle to let friendships slip. But when you are faced with your approaching death, the physical details of life fall away. People do want to get their financial affairs in order if possible. But it is not money or status that holds the true importance for them. They want to get things in order more for the benefit of those they love. Usually though, they are too ill and weary to ever manage this task. It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end. That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.
5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realise until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again. When you are on your deathbed, what  others think of you is a long way from your mind. How wonderful to be able to let go and smile again, long before you are dying.
Life is a choice. It is YOUR life. Choose consciously, choose wisely, choose honestly. Choose happiness. »

terça-feira, 20 de maio de 2014

the edge

«If it’s not a significant challenge, it’s not your edge. If it doesn’t require courage, it’s not your edge. This doesn’t mean that danger necessarily has to be present, but there is definite risk involved, whether that be losing face or speaking truths that might radically alter our life direction.

If all it requires is thinking positively, it’s not your edge. If it doesn’t — however briefly — bring up resistance in you, resistance that can easily toss aside or shed therapeutic and spiritual interventions, it’s not your edge. If you think you’re doing deep inner work while you sit relatively intact, it’s not your edge. If it’s easy, asking nothing much from you, it’s not your edge.

You know you’re at your edge when you strongly intuit that you need to go ahead regardless of how uncomfortable or fearful you are. This is very different than taking foolish or “should”-driven risks. A particularly challenging edge is that of opening to our core wounds, especially when we reach the point where we need to fully feel them without any “adult” dissociation or distancing from them. Being told ahead of time that this will be good for us doesn’t have much impact; undertaking such a uncommonly vulnerable journey takes real guts.

Approaching our edge brings us more and more present, eventually taking us not just from here to there, but from here to a deeper here, from now to a deeper now. If this sounds like an adventure, it’s because it is, both internally and externally. The very difficulty of this, the very dragons we meet along the way, the very self-restructuring we may undergo — all are but fierce grace, honing and refining and deepening us, helping forge a selfhood that’s a gift to one and all.»

By Robert Augustus.