Going through a parent's things after they die can feel like a very dusty wild goose chase. Finding a surprisingly enlightened letter that my grandmother wrote to my mom 62 years ago touched a place in my aching heart in a wonderfully healing way.
On the first anniversary of my mother's death, a beloved climbing hydrangea collapsed leaving a gaping hole in the landscape of my backyard. The poignant timing of this loss is a visceral reminder of the gaping hole left in the landscape of every family when a loved one dies. Like my family is doing, my yard will finding its way back to wholeness for a little while. It make look a little awkward while it does so, but it will get there. And so, I trust, will we.
When our guide on an Alaskan Fjords tour asked us what we'd like to see, it would have felt pretty audacious to ask to see a pod of 16 humpback whales bubble net feeding - especially as, before I saw it I had no idea what that even was. Because we had no expectations of what we'd see that day, we left ourselves open to surprise. We disembarked from the boat awash in gratitude for gift of seeing both expected and unexpected wonders.
You and I will never not be distracted. This world will always be filled with too many wonderful and ridiculous distractions. But we can minimize the distractions we create for ourselves. Doing so, even for a moment, makes us feel centered and serene. It makes us feel “all in” - with nowhere else we’d rather be and nothing else we’d rather be doing.
For 22 days I was thrilled to watch new life unfold in a bird's nest. As I happily looked on in wonder, I noticed myself simultaneously casting a shadow over my own joy by worrying about when the babies would leave. When we cling to happy things, we take away some the happiness they give us.
A cocktail party "flop" was a good reminder that there is always (always!) more going on than the hard stuff you’re navigating. It can take some practice to regularly look for the light and then to remember to share it when someone innocently asks you, "What's new?"
When someone you love has dementia, you quickly learn that even the best of plans will often need to be changed. You start to balance your effort with a sense of ease about how things might play out.
How many times have you felt beat over the head by an author or refrigerator magnet or singer because you’re “worrying your life away” or need to remember that “there is no time like the present” or that if you had “no worries” you’d “be happy?” Here's another take on the advice "Don't worry. Be happy."
Have you ever stumbled across something you thought you already knew and realize that you now know it in a whole new way? Sometimes you just can't "get it" until you've lived it. Life, it turns out, is the best teacher we'll ever have.