As I described in an earlier post, my family and I were almost in a full head-on collision with a truck, both vehicles moving around 55 miles an hour towards each other. That would have been a death sentence. I returned feeling that I had survived a near miss, but I didn't think too much more about it. Then later in the week after we returned, I received a phone call about a woman whose adult son (in his late 30s) was scuba diving and something went wrong and he died. Again, later that same week I heard about a family that we have supported through CCIH and Winter Nights who WAS in a head on collision in which two of the family members were killed: a 13 year old boy and a 20 year old young man. Their mother has been struggling for years, was finally getting their lives together and then this happened. Her life will never be the same. The loss is overwhelming. And I know that, were I in her position, I would wonder what all the struggle to get their lives together, to make something better for all of them had, in the end, been for.
My kids and I were fine. My parents, who were driving in the car behind us, were fine. But I feel like the combination of the near hit, along with the actual horrific and great losses to others call me to remember that life is fragile, that everything can change in the blink of an eye. All we have, really, is now. This moment. This minute in which we live and breathe and write and sing: that we hug our children, and really look into their eyes, that we offer a prayer for someone we love or make that phone call to the friend from way-back-when: these are all that we have, and these are the things that matter. They are fleeting, they are momentary, they are precious. We do not know what will happen tomorrow or even later on today.
Where does that leave us? Well, it leaves me with two different urgencies. The first is to pay attention and appreciate each moment that we are given. We never know when it will be our last. What in this moment, right now, is beautiful? Even in the hard moments, what is beautiful and worth gratitude? There is so much that we have; air to breathe, feet that walk, ears that hear, eyes that see, family, friends, foods, music, art, LIFE. Taking the time to notice, to send up thanks, to simply BE with what is; this is deeply worth the time and energy it may take. Life goes fast. Take time to be in your life.
The second urgency for me is, once again, the question of what mark I want to leave with my life. We have a very limited time to leave a mark. What do we want to do? Who do we want to be? What legacy do we want to leave? This isn't about the work I do. I think it used to be: what do I want to have accomplished with my time here? But it has changed in the last year or so. For me this has now become more about how I want to walk through each day, what I want to do with each encounter, who I want to be with the world, with the universe, with my community and with all I encounter. I want to walk with kindness, compassion, being fully present with each person who is before me in each moment. I want to be empowering, encouraging, bridge-building. I want to exude grace, compassion, empathy. I want to be with people, even the difficult people, in a way that leaves them feeling better for having that time with me. I want to help change the world into a more united, loving, caring place. I don't have forever to do this, so I need to do it now, and with every opportunity I am given.
The recognition that life goes fast is a gift. But, as with every gift, it calls for a response. My response is to choose to be more present in my life: both being more fully who I am and being more grateful for the amazing gift of life.
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