There comes a time in life where we realise that This Is It. Such a thought comes in waves… at times a gentle caressing reminder, and at others, a total ass whipping. This is it. And though it may be that we are born again and again and again, from a deathbed to delivery bed, out one story and into another, the fact of the matter is, we still only ever have this moment to experience ourselves as a living breathing self conscious human. ‘This is it’ is a NOW thing. An absolute all encompassing realisation that what has been and what will be has absolutely nothing to do with anything anymore because life is swooping by and our momentum to realise what we are is but a crawl… Time, whatever that actually is, isn’t waiting for us to figure this out. Instead of grabbing our own shoulders and shaking the shit out of our fearful bewildered bodily beings, we find ourselves seized by paralysis , making a million reasons why life didn’t go the way it should have. The way we wanted it to. We pick up yet another self help book that declares the ways to grow and conquer - we read half of it, feel demeaned by the authors seeming greatness, skip to a TEDx talk on how to get on with life, get distracted by an ad that reminds us of something else we need in order to be whole - and then feel hungry again. Hungry for another fix, to ease the pain of not being able to feel ourselves, our bodies, our lives, right now in the here and now. A cigarette will do - Or maybe a meditation. We all have our own ways of escaping. We are all holding on in our own ways, to our stories, our sadness, our rightness, our methods.. Those of us without children desperately trying to find meaning for our existence before we die. Demanding a legacy of ourselves so that we can feel we contributed to humanity somehow, because, wasn’t that the point? Or is it simply our ego challenging us to be still? As we spend our lives trying to be remembered after we die, we simultaneously ignore the reality of our mortality as we meander down the path of life’s everydayness. Trivial worries and concerns guide us down the path yesterdays tomorrow - leading us nowhere but closer to the inevitable moment of loss - when we least expect it, the people we love most in the world, will die, and we will be faced with a whole new entourage of This. Is. It.
Sometimes the urgency of this realisation lifts us up, and sometimes it breaks us down. Seeking the point only leads one down the rabbit hole, and living a life for no particular reason at all etches question marks upon all ‘worthy’ endeavours, despite the fact that the gift of life is already staring us down the barrel of existence. We are alive NOW. What to do? where to go? when to change it up, and what does it matter if everything will simply turn to dust? If it weren’t for the depth of lessons and bridges of being that lead our species on in the quest for meaning, we could pretty much skip life altogether - and yet here we are. Making our way through as we have for millions of years, trying to understand the rhyme and reason for our existence. Comparing grandiosity with presence, balancing survival with a life well lived. Women torn in two, whether giving birth, or childless; for the yearning of the body to give birth is met with a painful reality, a questioning of whether it is even the right thing to do to bring another human into this deeply fuct up world. Torn, when body meets mind and tries to make sense of it all - tries to understand what is the best, right, and true way to live this one and only life that we get to experience right now until we die. Hidden behind banners and mottos of positivity and power is a deep seated fear of life’s inevitable tragedy - presence disguised by pretty parades of people speaking up for their rights, the same people who so easily deny their authentic selves during the most intimate conversations with trusted companions - What is real in this game of life?
Sometimes life sweeps you off your feet and it seems like all the decisions of what to do and where to go have been obvious, and sometimes we are left standing at the fork, fighting the indecision of which way to go and what to create. Sometimes we feel lucky and sometimes we feel cursed. Mostly it just depends on how we look at it . Always best to take responsibility for the weird and wacky random synchronicity of divine timing. In other words, it really doesn’t matter - seize the day and choose a way. OR, just take on the challenge and sit in stillness until the waters part and the path is revealed. When in doubt do nothing, close your eyes, sense the body that houses the answers, and wait… wait for the dust of millions of lives lived to settle upon the yellow brick road of destiny, let us be walked home to ourselves, to our lives right here right now. Back to the inevitable realisation that there is no where to go, nothing to be. Because This. Is. it. To BE the infinite expanse of time is to LIVE, because life ain't waiting for us to figure it out. Breath, Choose, release. Breath. Choose release. This is the game. There is no right. Just here and now, choices made and choices to make, this is a life lived. And then we fly on… every time. Death awaits us, in every friend that we meet, in every heart we hear beat and in every love shared - death beckons us to live in ways we never dreamt of. To live as if we are alive, for only a very short time. Because really - thats all there is.
There comes a time in life when we hear the sound of our story being wound up inside our heart, like a music box, the handle starts to turn slower and we can hear each and every note.. and if we choose, we can hum along in our broken beautiful scratchy worn and weary voice. This is the moment when we hear the beat of our own heart, because we have finally realised that one day, this pumping organ will stop and we wont have ears to listen anymore. This is a game of forgetting who we are, to remember who we are. The game is on, and there are no winners. Death awaits us and THIS IS IT The rules to the game? Grab your shoulders like they are dice and throw yourself off the abyss of creation! let go, love and play with all your heart because there really is nothing to lose. Before we know it, this game is over and another round will be beginning, again as a tiny unknowing dependant baby screaming for that which has all but been forgotten....
17 years world traveller, internationally recognised award winning body painter with a background in Anthropology, Orly delves deep into the enquiry of what it means to be a human being and ceaselessly expresses her art whilst following her heart. , Specialising in mimitism (camouflage), Orly's current expressions are a moving living creative and expansive entity that represents her passion for re-merging humanity with the earth from which we came, sustainable conscious living, healing the sacred feminine as we learn to respect our mother earth and advocacy for balancing commercial gain with global and local contributions.