What's the Point of Any of It?

You can’t take any of it with you, and that might be the best news you’ll hear all year.

Here’s the basic arc of a human life. You’re born. You get somewhere between 15 and 95 years. Then you die.

And nothing comes with you. The house, the money, the cars, the company you built, the meals, the relationships, the wins. All of it stays behind.

So why do we grind so hard for it?

Sit with that one for a second. Why accumulate? Why achieve? Why save?

Try this thought experiment. Imagine you’re taking a trip, and you know for certain that nothing you do today could prepare you for it. You don’t know the weather. You don’t know the language, the food, the cost, or the danger. Nothing you own would help.

Would you still pack a suitcase? Pick your outfits? Save up for the exotic tours and the nice dinners? Book the flights, the rental car, the room? Would you upgrade to first class?

You couldn’t. And there’s a strange freedom in that. You get to skip the packing, the planning, and the saving. Everybody travels first class on this one. And the trip could leave tomorrow, next year, or at 95.

That trip is your death. And here’s how I’ve come to hold it: this life is the excursion, and dying is going home.

Would I be sad to leave the people I love? Of course. And I also believe the homecoming lands you in a state of love and bliss that’s bigger than the sadness. When I picture my own arrival, I’m in a t-shirt and my favorite jeans, barefoot, huge smile, tears of joy running down my face. Every ounce of stress and worry gone.

Do I feel ready for that trip? Honestly, I doubt I ever will. And I have a hunch that when the moment comes, I’ll find out I was ready the whole time.

Which brings me back to the question. If none of it comes with us, why are we here?

To live the shit out of it. Every single moment.

I crossed 58 a while back, and I can tell you the whole thing goes by in a blink. Here’s what I believe, and you can take it or leave it: we chose to come here. We got our wish. And part of the deal is that we forget we made it.

So living the shit out of it means all of it. The tough stretches and the easy ones. Happy and sad. Bliss and excruciating pain. Lonely and connected. Unfair. Silly. Fun. Scary. Fearless. Loving. Feeling every bit of that is what being alive actually is.

I know how hard that is to hold when you’re in the pain. The question shows up on schedule: why me, why now? It can feel like life is being done to you.

I’ve started answering that question differently. What if this, exactly this, is happening for me? A gift from God, the Universe, whatever Higher Power you keep.

Because the joy is still there underneath. I think of it like the deep blue sky: the peace, the happiness, the love, always present, even on the days the clouds hide every inch of it.

The clouds pass. The sky was there the whole time.

The whole practice, as far as I can tell, is remembering. Remember. Remember. Remember.

Okay. I’m off to go live the shit out of my life. I’d love for you to go do the same with yours.

That’s why we’re here.

With love, Andy

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