Phillip Joel Hughes
(30 November 1988 – 27 November 2014) 25

Death is a part of life that we all have to face and are all touched by during our own lifetime.  You could say that I have different views on death compared to most but the unexpected death of Phillip Hughes has highlighted the importance of the now to me once again.

I was showering this morning and thinking about sad news of his passing, I had never known of him until I heard of the accident on the radio the other day.  A young man at the peak of his career struck on the head by a cricket ball and dying a few days later, 3 days shy of his 26^th birthday.  I am guessing he was one of the lucky few living his boyhood dream.

We are all here on borrowed time and if it’s one thing that I have learnt from time is that it’s going to kill us all.  We generally associate death with old age and disease. Let’s assume that death is relative to age, then how old are we really??  We cannot answer this question because we do not know how old we will be when we die.  We think because we are young we have our entire life ahead, we think we are immortal and that death cannot touch us, that’s for the oldies in the nursing homes, right?

When we are young we have all these dreams and hopes, ‘I’m going to be a chef and have my own cooking show’, ‘I’m going to be a playwright and see my name on Broadway’, ‘I’m going to do this,  I’m going to do that’… then all of a sudden we start growing up and having responsibilities.  We somehow get caught up living and our dreams get put on the backburner but that’s ok, because we are young and have all the time in the world.

We spend the majority of our life waiting, waiting in queues, waiting for the right person, waiting for the right opportunity, waiting to have enough money, waiting waiting waiting meanwhile, the clock of death is ticking away and we are dying, this is what we call life!!  What if there was no more time to wait for?  How much precious time do we waste just waiting?  What is it that we are waiting for exactly, for our number to be called and our soul to be taken?

What if all of a sudden we found out that we only had 1 week to live, would we still be going to work and doing the things we need to do or things that we love to do?

Not many people are fortunate enough or have the courage to go against what is expected of them and to do what they really love.  I am not saying quit your job and join an ashram like I did, what I am saying is don’t give up on the dreams, respect your heart and pursue them.  Stop waiting for the perfect time because the perfect time is NOW.  It is the only time we have, take steps into making your dreams come true, don’t give up on them. Be bold and brave don’t be fearful, take calculated risks.  Have faith that all will work out, for if it is meant to be then the Universe will align and make it happen for you.  All we have to do is listen to what is inside our heart and make the first step to show that we are ready to transform our life.  When we take that step the Universe will catch us and then we will start to co-create the rest of our days and start living our dream.  What do we have to lose…. haven’t we lost enough already?

I had fallen into this trap all my life, waiting, paralyzed by fear, what if this, what if that! Only to now look back and observe that all that worrying was a waste of time because it never materialized. It wasn’t until recent years that I decided to take that leap and start to follow my heart.  I have a long way to go but I am quickly realizing that the soul is much more resilient then the ego and that ego feeds of fear.  The more I listen to my heart the more magical my life becomes. Ohh look, a unicorn… only kidding 😀

I am also realizing that waiting is a way of giving yourself permission to sit with your fears and do nothing because we are waiting for the right time in which to do things assuming that we will have the time.   It is a game that the Universe plays with us to see how much we trust we have in It and the process of life.  Time does not exist, it is all an illusion. The only thing that is real and that we have is NOW.

Hi my name is Pritha Dasi thanks for stopping by and having a read.

I have never blogged before but I love to write.

In truth, I have been procrastinating about doing this for some time now and after chatting with a blogger and writer friend last week he inspired me to get blogging so here I am.

This is not a narcissistic attempt to show the world how wonderful I am because I am no more then what you are and this is my point exactly, if I can attain what I have then so can you.  See this as an outreach project for overcoming depression, anxiety, weight issues and the lack of desire to continue breathing on some days.  We are all gurus and disciples in this life and the only way that we can learn from one another is by sharing our stories. So here goes…

I was born on the 30^th of April (some decades ago) into a family that migrated to Australia from Spain in 1964.  My father, Antonio was born in 1930, he was ‘given away’ as a young boy to his neighbours to be raised by them because my grandparents had too many kids to care for and another mouth was just too much.  As a young man he spent a lot of time with a local Priest, Padre Flores and joined the priesthood but women and other desires kept him from becoming a priest. My father was a carpenter by trade, a musician at heart but he was a humanitarian first and foremost.  He was a man of great integrity that would do anything for you and expect nothing in return.  In my young adult years dad and I always argued, it wasn’t until long ago that I understood why.  We would have great disagreements over silly things and we wouldn’t talk for hours but we had a rule at our house that whenever someone was to leave they would have to kiss everyone there and say goodbye just in-case that was their last goodbye.  We were both that suborn that we would wait until the last minute to go to somewhere so the other had to make the first move. Many times we would turn our face to receive a kiss from the other and mutter a ‘goodbye’ under our breath.  As I matured my relationship with my father improved, there was an underlying bond and love between us both that was felt and understood but never spoken about.  No disagreement could have ever broken that bond.
He was (as I am) grossly misunderstood by his behaviour, his aloofness, coldness and abrupt manner in communicating didn’t do him any favours.  He didn’t take shit and he called a spade a spade.  He was too much for most to handle. I would say that he was probably the most sincere person I have ever met.  He was somewhat an acquired taste, you either loved him or hated him but if you gave him the benefit of the doubt you would have gained a friend for life with no strings attached, I believe the ‘buzz’ term these days is ‘unconditional love’.

My mother Franisca was born in 1934 and was a devout Catholic. She married my father in 1953, he was the only man the she ever knew.  She was a full-time housewife and did the best she could with what she had.  Mum was the kind of person that everyone loved, with her softness and polite forgiving mannerisms she won people over instantly. My mother’s ‘saintly’ status mostly came from having to care for my sister, Lynn, who was born disabled and autistic.  Bound to a wheelchair, unable to communicate, eat and drink or anything by herself mum became the link between my sister’s trapped soul and the world we live in.  Mum cared for her 24/7 and never left her side until Lynn passed away in 1986.  She saw us as a burden and a responsibility and did the need to do but with no love, just out of obligation.

My relationship with my mother was a turbulent one that is not to say that I didn’t love her.

So here I am, the product of two devout Catholics.  I thought I would share a brief intro of my parents with you because without understanding the seed how can you start to appreciate the flower?