How To Tip Over Dead

How To Tip Over Dead

If they really knew me would they still follow?

I get scared..

Say stupid things.

Just like them.

They come to me seeking knowledge. They want me to tell them how to be free of their weakness. How to be fearless. How to stay focused.

But I screw up a lot.

If they knew how much would they still listen?

I tell them I wrote my book for me too. But I wonder if they believe me. They see the dojo, and hear about my accomplishments, then they put me on a pedestal.

It’s a pedestal of clay.

I’m just a guy that’s working on this stuff. I’ve still got my fears. My petty grievances. My addictions.

But I’m better today than I was ten years ago. Maybe I’ll keep getting better.

Maybe one day I’ll master all this stuff I teach. Right at the end of my life I’ll be perfect and at exactly that moment I’ll…

… know.

Until then I’m going to keep hacking away.

 — -

I remember way back in high school in a philosophy class a kid asked: “How do you know who you really are?”

The kids in that class thought I was stupid. They already knew who they were — so they said.

But I’m proud of where all the questions have taken me.

So maybe it’s all about just asking the question? Keep the questions going and keep getting a little better every week.

Maybe that’s the only difference between a Master and everyone else. The Master questions who he is. Works at it. Tries to find out. Tries to get figure things out.

Maybe everyone who keeps asking is the Master.

I don’t know. Maybe I never will.

Maybe one day I’ll understand all of it. Know who I am totally. Be fearless.

You’ll know when that happens.

Because that’s the day…

… I’ll stop writing.

And tip over dead.