With random thoughts, my mind roamed. Hauntingly sporadic, memories of yesteryear blend in with hopes for tomorrow like shadows moving across a graveyard. Realities of the present shout their message, the epitaphs for an imminent future. It feels as if the last unknown is that date to the right of the hyphen.
With spurts of energy, my feet are restless. Aimlessly trailing, steps carry me from room to room. From the computer with endless information to the kitchen with limited inspiration, I pace. I take out the trash and sweep the back patio only to have the howling wind return the debris. With higher expectations to the front porch, I go. The grass has just been mowed; there is clean up to do. The wind is still fierce and tenacious, but the overhang and exposure limits its damage. Brushing down the outdoor furniture and tidying up the potted plants, I discover too late that the bird’s nest that just toppled was the home of four small blue eggs. The broken mess now dotting the cement requires more attention with a bucket of water and a brisk scrubbing.
With noncommittal commiseration, my body returns inside and my hands grab for the keys. Moments of deliberation behind the wheel confirm the need and the right for comfort food. Counting my pennies and my singles, my direction is determined. Driving often provides the space to examine my thoughts and release my emotions. There is something about the power and control that comes from the pressure of my feet on the pedals and the response of the steering wheel in my hands; it is now safe for me to dig deeper and let go.
With unexpected delivery, words of simplicity arrived this morning via internet. I read the forwarded message simply because of my regard for the sender. The content of the e-mail was written by a 90-year-old woman; the message of the e-mail could have been from the Book of Ancient Wisdom. Lessons of life had taught this woman much, yet in its clear and unassuming way, it was very simple. Life is a gift and every window of opportunity is a chance to love. Choose to enjoy it and to share the gift. Do not hide or run or you will miss it.
With peace in the moment, my mind walked from the graveyard of doom and carried on down the road. Emotions followed and the shadows scurried into anonymity. There are unknowns in loving, but the unknowns are no guarantee for death. Number 15 of the 90-year-old’s life lessons reads, “Everything can change in the blink of an eye.” There is no shame in loving, but the blows from the past often bear the scab of shame and fear of rejection as though the act of loving is actually something to be ashamed of. Number 11 admonishes, “Make peace with your past so it won’t screw up the present.” There is a natural deepening of love given time and proper nourishment. All the answers and insights to potential problems may not be foretold in the packaging. It is not a water sponge toy that soaks up tons of water instantaneously and packs a wet watery punch when thrown, complete with instructions on how-to. As per number 2, “When in doubt, just take the next small step.”
Life is a gift and every window of opportunity is a gift of Love, to love. Choose to enjoy it, choose to share the gift. Do not hide or run or you will miss it. “It’s never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.” “Get rid of anything that isn’t useful, beautiful or joyful.” [Numbers 19 and 17 respectively on Regina Brett’s ’42 Lessons Life Taught Me’.]