Travel Epilogue ~ 7-8-17


St. Bonaface Cathedral, Winnipeg, Canada, 7/17

Home again from our most recent voyage I am grateful to be safe and sound, snug in our little nest with Sophie. She certainly enjoyed her days with her human sister, brother and nephew and her furry nephews too. So grateful that she was loved and happy while we were away. We managed to survive a variety of travel challenges, somewhat the worse for wear, but more experienced for future travel. Wish those lessons had been a little easier, though.

I find my thoughts drifting hither and yon right now. So much has come into my life these past few months and I feel the urge to be still. And yet there is so much to do. My sixty-eighth birthday is in six weeks. Sixty-eight! I can barely type the words much less wrap my mind around that reality. In so many ways I feel like a young woman with my whole life ahead of me (though the mirror would belie that notion). I remember being in my thirties, making plans for my future, thinking I had all the time in the world to try this or that. I thought I might go back to school and become a graphic designer or a therapist. I had time to do that if I wanted to. I remember feeling like there was always going to be time for things I might have had to put off for one reason or another. Time was on my side then. More ahead than behind.

This week I was reminded of the fragility of life and the passage of time. On one hand it was deeply saddening holding space for dear ones who have lost a beloved family member. It reminded me poignantly of my own losses, specifically of my parents. I felt the depth of our friends’ sorrow and grief and couldn’t help but be reminded how it was for me and my family when we faced the same process of letting go and resolving my parent’s lifetime of worldly goods and possessions. It’s a dichotomy – we have possession of a lifetime of memories that bring us tremendous joy and yet break our hearts and bring us to floods of tears at the loss of those days and the people we love at the very same time. Such events bring on the melancholia that goes along with living a life that is full, and if we are lucky, long. And if it is long, one of its inevitable gifts will be navigating the losses that accompany lengthy time on the planet. Those of us who are older are now facing the departure of the elders, yes; but we are also facing the loss of friends and workmates and people like us, requiring a reality check that may feel a bit uncomfortable.

So I am reflecting even more on what is still on the table for me to do with my time here. It’s even more valuable with each passing day. I am resisting the urge to hurry up and “do” and the mentality of trying or striving to get it all done before it’s my turn to move on. Rather, I am choosing to step mindfully and consciously so as to touch those I love and those I encounter as gently and lovingly as I can. I am choosing to create beauty with my hands, with my brush, with my heart, with my words. I pray to leave behind a legacy of love and good work so that my memory is one that brings smiles, inspiration and laughter more than the inevitable sadness of loss. I know there is still time and I plan to use it well and with an active sense of humor about it.

It strikes me that I may need to go walking in nature, re-invent my meditation practice, stretch my body and still my mind and heart. I am in that place of reflection and will be asking my Guides to show me how best to step into each moment of each day so that my being may be a blessing. And as I do I hold in my heart the memory of all of our dear ones and the gifts they have left for us.

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