The Miracle of Authenticity

Authenticity is the essence of life. Nature is authentic. She doesn’t waste time with politeness. The sun doesn’t ask for permission to rise. The star doesn’t seek approval for shining its light. Things are as they are. The tree is as it is, the bird flies and hunts for food as it does, the deer is also authentic to its nature. When we return to our authentic nature as humans, we realize we – like the birds, the stars and the trees – are miracles. Or, perhaps I’ll say it this way: when we return to our nature, we realize we are fucking miracles. We are all born out of fucking and sex. Sex is an inextricable part of our nature. Embrace the fucking miracle we all are! Celebrate and honor yourself everyday.

Miraculous Authenticity Story

My benchmark for authenticity has always been my father. My mother was mostly authentic, but she would sometimes withhold information to try to be nice. My father was always honest and true. From my earliest memories of him, until the day he died, I do not remember him ever speaking a single lie. I mean ever! He was that honest. They don’t make men like him these days. I strive to be as honest with myself and others as he was. He died like he lived, with integrity. 

When my father was on his deathbed, he was in a coma from a blood clot which temporarily stopped his heart. After fourteen 14 days the light of his life was fading from his body. My girlfriend at the time Heather, my Uncle Shiraz, and I all sat around my father as he entered the last stages of the death process. He was as he always had been – authentic. The dying process is a hyper authentic state. Anything that’s being hidden, just comes out and there’s really nothing to hide anymore.

My father sort of glanced at each one of us, with slightly tearing up eyes full of gratitude for each one of us. It was miraculous to us. Even through the coma, he communicated his love so clearly and deeply that Heather and I both had the same experience of him doing a gratitude ceremony starting with me on his left, then moving to Heather in the middle, and ending with Shiraz on his right. 

I was so grateful to be an intimate part of my father’s dying process. This process helped open my heart and matured me more than any single experience. I never understood the full impact of death and loss until I lost him. He was an inspiration to me in so many ways. I dedicated my third book, Inspired Authenticity, to this wonderful man.

This article comes out of my book Inspired Authenticity: The Power to Be Yourself in a World Full of Lies. Visit our website for more on coaching and training in authenticity.

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