On my dying day

Well, it could be any day...
and I realized I wasn't so much accepting it as a fact, a little bit of lint I carry in my life's pocket, but I was sitting around watching for it, is that it creeping through those shadows around that corner?

So I fell into the trap of thinking "I may not be able to control my death, but I'll damn well be prepared for it."  It was an attempt to control that which is uncontrollable (mostly.)  The "mostly" is that I am not suicidal, nor do I take risks that taunt my death.  (And I haven't really prepared like arranging the disposition of remains or a memorial service.)

But what a slug I've become.

So I've gone back to meditating.  I've stayed out of church where it's mainly a mental masturbation.  (I do miss the friends, so I'll go back.)  I will also try to connect with something spiritual in the church.  I know it can be there.  I am probably the one that disconnected from wherever it is.

And I've gone back to another form of connecting with the universal truths.  I read a tarot card every day. How can a pasteboard card with an ancient symbol give universal truth?  Well, just as Jung said, the subconscious is available through different ways, and I am pretty sure my subconscious has some truth in it...if I can just access it.  My daily question is meaningful to me, and the card is an extension of all possible things that might answer that question.  It is just one answer, a picture and a meaning that I can consider.  Perhaps the considering is what makes the question, the card, and my subconscious come to some meaning.

I've got choices.  I can do whatever I want.

I am a verb.

Yep, I am doing.  (Yes, there's part of me that knows I'm more a Being, but for now, I've got to get going, not just sit and collect dust.)  I've only so much more time in which to DO.