By the bottle / buy the book

27 Jan

Last night, as we enjoyed the last drops from a lovely bottle of Pinot Noir, my Phoenix-based road trip host and I got into a fairly deep discussion about what, if anything, REALLY matters. I think that we concluded that Nothing and Everything pretty much both matter equally and paradoxically the same (that is, everything and nothing) all at once.

I’m pretty sure we ultimately agreed that what “really matters” is what you decide matters to you, and you alone.

And what “matters” to you right now, at this very moment, may have the exact opposite force-of-meaning when you wake up in the morning. Or when you look back at the end of your day. Or at the end of your week. Or at the end of your life.

And you can second-guess or congratulate, or exalt or excoriate, yourself all you want, whenever you want, for whatever decision you make or don’t make, and, really, none (and all!) of it matters.

Or not.

It’s up to you.

When I left Phoenix this morning, I still believed in our “conclusion”: Nothing, and everything, equally matters (or not) depending on who you are and where you are at this very moment.

This road trip is epic! And stupid! And awesome! And a giant waste of time, talent, and money and the best investment I could ever make in myself and a good value to others who care about this thing and completely irrelevant to just about everyone on the planet, except all the merchants who directly benefit from my economic investments in them, except that I’m using a lot of fossil fuel, which is ridiculously inexpensive at the consumer level presently, but still catastrophically expensive (potentially) to our terrestrial resources (depending on how you interpret the data), but who cares so long as the pictures are pretty, but who has time to look at the pictures anyways and why are we all fusking around on Instagram, or Facebook, or Word Press to begin with and perhaps we would all be better if we simply went back to subsistence farming in the first place, but if we did that, then who would handle medical needs and what would happen to infant mortality rates and maybe high infant mortality rates are “good” in the first place given the overpopulation of the earth, and….

It’s all relative.

Except that it’s not.

As I was driving toward my lunch outing in Tucson, it dawned on me: Today is the 70th Anniversary of the Liberation of Auschwitz.

That matters.
That matters universally, epically, forever, and without end.

It matters to every single person on this planet, and to those who have already left this planet, and to those who have yet to arrive.

And the meaning of WHY it matters is also universal, epic, and forever.

And that meaning is also why there is no point in my ever trying to “write a book” as so many of you often ask me to do, because my book would (or should) consist entirely and only of the following edict, which is handed down from my German ancestors (who were too ignorant to understand it) and by my former and current and future clients (be they Holocaust survivors or brain injured patients):

What matters is this:

Live your life however you choose.

Do anything, everything, or nothing, as you wish.

Your decisions have NO meaning except, unless, and until they cause harm to others, because at the moment you harm another, you irrevocably and irredeemably lose all meaning in your life and destroy all meaning for the other(s).

{why don’t you go ahead and go find yourself a nice bottle of wine and let all that sink in for a bit…}

* * * *

This blog is “supposed” to be about my adventures. And while telling the tales of my current  Epic Homeless Vagabond Couch-Surfing Road Trip harms no one, whether I actually tell the tales or not it truly and utterly meaningless. The only meaning I can offer you is the truth I have learned from my Holocaust Survivor clients/friends, which is this:

Life your life and live it with as much love in your heart and passion in your soul as you can, and forgive, ignore, or relegate to irrelevance those who are not able to do so in their own lives.

I suspect that I will resume blogging about my meaningless tales-from-the-road soon enough, but for today I’ve decided to devote myself to writing “the book” that you all have asked for.

Now, be it so written:

Do (or don’t do) whatever you want, so long as you harm no one in the process.

This Book of Life is dedicated to all 6,337 of “my” Holocaust Survivor client/mentor/friends. Thank you for the lessons you have imparted. And thank you, dear blog follower, for reading our tale.

Now go enjoy some wine — or not. It’s up to you and it really doesn’t matter.

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