Day 9: The Unexpected Gift

lagniappe

/lan yap/

noun

an unexpected gift

A Creole word shared tonight during the Thanksgiving service at church...

A reminder to be open-eyed for these gifts in our lives...

A point to be an unexpected gift in the world

(too jaded and unaware that such gifts are even possible.)

Day 8: See The World Through Different Eyes

I want to see the world
with eyes that blur out
hate
and
eyes that focus on
love
and
eyes that square on
peace
and
eyes that glow with
joy
and eyes that shine with
excitement
and eyes that open to
possibility
and eyes that close to
negativity
and eyes that smile at
strangers
and eyes that cry with
friends
and eyes that watch over
family
and eyes that dream of
all these things.

I want to see with eyes that make the whole world 
worth seeing;
and be in a world that sees me the 
same
way.

Day 7: Appreciating My Husband

Today, in the very early morning hours, a high school classmate of mine departed this life after fighting a HARD battle with cancer.

He left a wife and in-laws and a throng of friends who are, by all accounts, shredded by this loss.

He and I were not close all those years ago at THS, but I remember well how hilariously funny he was and what an incredible writer he was.

I hate using those past tense verbs.  Chad should not now be past tense...

All day, I've thought of him, and with every thought of him, I've also thought of his wife.  I never met her, but I "know" her from Facebook, from the messages of love and support she's received from relatives and friends all over the country, from her posts.  She clearly LOVES Chad.  Seriously.  Her love is almost tangible in her words, and on her face...the look of love is literally visible in every photo of the two of them.  Theirs was clearly a marriage of soul-mates.  I say that with no sarcasm or skepticism.  Soul-mates.  For real.

I can't imagine the pain she's feeling right now.  The love and partner of her life will never again hug her or hold her hand or smile at her.  He'll never be there again to share a meal, share a laugh, share a conversation.  The exuberant and mundane moments of life will never again be theirs together.

I think of that and I can hardly breathe.

Because...what if it were me?  What if I were the one staring at an empty chair, normally inhabited by my sweet husband?  What if were crawling into a bed alone?  Waking up alone?

I have been so, so thankful to have Glen in my life the past four years.  Days like today make me all the more thankful for him, and enable me to frame specifically the ways I love...

...his sweet smile
...his quiet strength
...his faith
...his intelligence
...his integrity
...his hugs
...his kindness 
...his love.

 He cares about me---actually cares about what I say and what I hope for and what I want and what makes me happy.  He makes me laugh.  He makes me want to be a better person.  He gives me strength and hope.  He brings light into my life.

It has been precious, seeing how loved my classmate was and how loved his wife is still--there are so many people pouring themselves out to her, supporting her through her grief.  It encourages me to see so much love in the world, and reminds me of all the love I have right here in mine.

Day 6: Brief Philosophy, Big Idea

From Japan, this concept:

Wabi-Sabi:

Nothing lasts,
nothing is perfect,
nothing is finished.


I love that...

Day 5: Giving Fear the Space To Leave

Oh, no---fear.

You are
voracious
relentless
avaricious
and
cruel.

You imprison
and
walk away,
giving no thought to the prisoner who spends every moment thinking of
you.

If only there were a
key
or
a door
or
an exit
or an
escape.
(If only...)

...except,
there is.

That's Fear's real power---that he has none.

(I invite you to leave now, cruel one.  It is time for)

Oh...no fear.

Day 4: The Sweetness of Being "Present"

Oh, the beauty of children....

Tonight, while grabbing a meal at a local sandwich shop, I observed a sweet little boy seated at a table directly by ours.  He and his mother had entered the shop after his father (who was already seated when he came in), and when he saw him, he rushed forward excitedly and hopped into their booth!  Unfortunately, the little boy's father was too intent on staring at his phone to notice him.  He barely acknowledged his wife, who came over to inquire about ordering their meal, and he certainly was ignoring their son.  It was troubling, to say the least.

But...the little boy...undeterred by a silly iPhone...slipped out of his seat and moved around their table toward his father's spot in their booth.  (Getting no reaction from his dad.)   Undeterred still, he slipped closer.  (Again, getting no reaction.)  Finally...this determined, precious, beautiful boy (whose father was behaving more like a child than he was, ignoring his family and petulantly attaching himself to a tiny screen) leaned in closer and closer and closer...

...until their faces were practically touching

...until he knocked his father's ball cap askew

...until his father finally smiled at him--and even laughed a little.

Getting that smile and getting that giggle elicited a glow of joy so pure from that sweet boy's face that I felt joy, too.  It reminded me about being present.  It showed me how little we look---really look---at each other (because we're more comfortable really looking at hand-held screens).  

Had I brought my phone to dinner tonight, I probably would've missed all of that.

Which made that sweet moment all the sweeter.  If not for the dad, certainly for me.

Day 3: Gratitude for A Horrible Day

Day 3....some random thoughts on gratitude after a truly horrible day.

Even horrible days make me thankful.
I am thankful that I have
no sorrows,
no struggles,
no illnesses,
no losses,
no anything
so staggering that I feel the need to run from my life.
My life is beautiful....
...and hard
...and amazing
...and exhausting
and I love it.
I will not run from it--nor do I want to.
(Isn't it sad that others do?)

I am thankful that I can
listen to people
(and not feel the need to interrupt them, even though they don't afford me that same courtesy).

I am thankful that I can
laugh loudly and deeply
(and not worry that people are "offended" by my mirth).

I am thankful that I can
see
how miserable people are and make the choice to be their opposites;  these are pathetic souls who have nothing in their lives except
running
interrupting
scowling
looking disapprovingly
and missing everything 
in their hyper-bitter-rigid-cold-fearful-mean-judgemental-scornful angst.

I choose to plant flowers in my soul
and spread my arms to gentle breezes.
Even when I fail myself and temporarily succumb to the jagged edges,
my heart opens a portal to grace
and
invites me in.

It is an invitation I always
(and will always)
accept.

Gratefully.

Day 2: Not Gonna Feel Bad About Being Me

Second day, and I failed (sort of) at making the passions of my life manifest.

Today was soul-sucking, mind-numbing, and boring, spent going from session to session at Day 2 of Convergence, listening to one presenter after another drag me through apps and platforms and programs that mean NOTHING to me.  Seriously, nothing.  My threshold for these sessions today was extremely narrow, especially when Day 1 wasn't much better.  While I can respect the fact that there are people out there who get super excited about tech "stuff", I'm not one of them.  Especially on the first two days that I'm making a point of pouring "life" into my life.

There was one bright spot today, though.  The one session I attended that actually spoke to me was led by two brothers, twins, whose mirror souls inspire them to write children's books and produce children's videos and make the world a beautiful, creative, brighter place.  At one point during their presentation, tears puddled in my eyes; their words were all about trying and doing and painting and drawing and creating; their "ish" philosophy is gorgeous; their parting comment was about "painting our dot and signing it", a philosophy that fits perfectly into my goal of living.  They made me want to turn my space into love and light and paint and words and music.

Not apps.  Not Google classroom.  Not some program that is designed to give electronic sticky notes to group participants that I can't remember the name of, even though I used it during a session today.

Okay, maybe today wasn't a fail.  Maybe tapping into what I want---even though my day didn't represent that---was living my life after all.

Day 1: A Year to Live

Today is Monday, November 16, 2015, and...

I have 365 days to live.

Let me clarify:

I'm not saying I've been diagnosed with a terminal illness that will take my life one year from now.  I'm saying that I've come to a point on my life-path that I'm assessing what that means, having a "life path"...

What is this thing called LIFE?  What is the point of it?  What are we supposed to be doing with it?  These are questions I've been circling around for years... and then...

Yesterday, at church, our minister challenged us with these queries:
Would you want to know the exact day you were going to die?
and
If you did know it, what would it inspire you to do?

Oh, boy....

His question made me wonder if I'd want to know that about myself.  I have to admit, my initial reaction was no (as most people's reaction is), but....the more I thought about it...the more I realized that I actually did want to know the day that would be my final day.  Maybe that's macabre and maybe I'm playing with fire by admitting that, but I really do think I'd like to know.

Because, if I knew....I TRULY believe that it would spur me on to live, to REALLY LIVE, in the time I had left.

So...

What am I waiting for?  Why can't I face my future with a fierce determination to wring the maximum life out of each day, even without a specific "X-number of months left" diagnosis falling over me?   Why can't I go ahead and live each day as if it were my last?  Why can't I appreciate every moment, every breath, every teeny-tiny-itty-bitty aspect of my world RIGHT NOW?  If I started to truly realize that the clock WAS ticking,  would I change myself?  Would I quit my job and take up a cause?  Would I become more loving?  Be more forgiving?  Get peaceful or more brash or more patient or more kind?

I have no idea, but....I want to see.

So, for the next 365 days, I am committing to a life fully lived.  Each of the days, over the next year, are gifts.  MY gifts.  I want to open each one with excitement and with appreciation.  I want to see how, by keeping the idea of impending finality present in my life, I can be (in that life) more present.  I want to honor this length of days, whatever mine may be, by lengthening my joy of them.

Here's to life, then.  My life.  For the next 365 days.