I am sitting here, working... but my mind wanders to the movie August Rush.
I hear the Catholic church's call for whatever they do at 6 pm... and today I hum with it, I hear it as music. And I remember that I used to hear it as noise.
This brings me to August Rush.
I think, most likely it's a corny movie. And yet, it is one of the movies I go back to with regularity. And weep.
And I just got what about that movie, August Rush is talking to me.
Yesterday I spent a good half of my day planning to end my life.
When I asked: do I make a difference, which is just another way to ask the stupid Tai Lopez funeral test question that irritates the hell out of me: will anyone weep when I die.
And the obvious, to me, answer is: no one... or not really.
This moody, hopeless state lasted until I had a thought: what if needing to make a difference is a meme?
What if life is not about what other people say about me, but what I say about me and my life?
What if this meme is much like the meme of "love your neighbor as yourself" and is stupid? Because why would you love your neighbor... your neighbor can be an axe murderer, or your mother in law... or Donald Trump... ugh.
Or it so happens, I have a born again Christian for a neighbor, who thinks trying to live like the Bible say to live make her a child of God, an Israelite?
What if my job is what I say my job is, and then I can take life as it comes. If people like me... good. If people don't like me... also good. If people can raise their vibration up with my guidance... good. If they can't... that is also good.
With this idea that this is a meme pulling my strings... frees me up. I am no excited. I now have some energy. I am even starting to do some house work: pick up some clothes that are all over the place.
Oh, back to August Rush...
Why I like it so much.
Remember, August Rush is this little boy, discarded son of two musicians. And she does music. She does music for the love of music.
She also knows that music will bring his parents to him: it has to. And it does.
For me it is not about the parents, it is about the love of music, and the faith that that is enough, that you don't have to do anything else. You don't have to scramble to gain other people's likes or agreement or approval.
Me living with what I have... the love of flying. The love of teaching to fly. The love of truth. The love of health. Teaching. If anyone hears it: good. If no one hears it: also good.
The important thing is to get the music that wants to be created be created.
The wind doesn't care, the sun doesn't care, so why should I care if anyone appreciates it.
I watch students of mine being heavily invested in being approved of, liked, in being right, and they are not flying.
The ones that do: they learned the attitude from me, that the music needs to get out. Eventually it will be heard... or not.
Your job is to play it.