The Mystery

Four years ago my beloved grandpa passed away. Every autumn I drive to the valley town where he and my grandmother lived for most of their lives, the place where he is buried. September was his birth month, and the month he died. It is also one of the most beautiful months to visit. SB and I hiked a bit in the nearby state park while we were in the area.

I was feeling more existential than usual on this year's trip due to the fact that on Friday I received news that a colleague of mine has been diagnosed with a cancerous brain tumor. He is one of the most gentle, generous, and graceful people I've ever met, a husband and father of two young kids, and it made me sick to think of the weight of such a diagnosis on him and his family. But I must say, his ruminations on CaringBridge are profoundly hopeful and embracing of the mystery that is life. I was particularly struck by this passage, and share it only because I think it is incredibly wise and instructive for how to live life to the fullest... 

I have felt a sense of spiritual connection other times in my life, but I have never felt so much a part of a larger orchestration that seemed to change not only me but the world around me. I don't understand this, but I want to keep paying attention to it and savoring it. I have lived a lot of my life feeling shy and uptight--afraid to express or trust love. I've lived a lot of my life in my head, abstractly. I'm grateful for the ways this experience is pushing me more fully into relationships, more fully into life.

We're all going to die sometime. How long I live isn't the most important thing to me. Living as fully as possible in the reality of love in every moment is what is most important to me. I don't have the power to do this on my own. Some days, like when I met with the oncologist a couple days ago, I get lost in fear, feeling overwhelmed, and anticipating what might be. I ask for your repeated help and companionship in returning to the present tense of what connects us and moves us right now, noticing, with wonder, what is unfolding. I pray and trust that this unfolding is also healing for others, for other cancers on the planet and society. I know my brain is one part of who I am, and I want to support its healing. But I feel my identity is more in the connections between us, and the power that weaves us together. 

Being reminded of the preciousness of life is a gift. In that spirit, here are a few other moments that I savored this weekend:

Highlight of a recent sculpture garden visit, which
resonated with me in thinking about grace amidst mystery

a close cuddle with sweet little Cricket

I finally took the time today to make these pajama pants,
from start to finish, in the sunshine, humming to my favorite playlist

It is a mystery, and in my opinion the best we can do is what my colleague articulated - to let ourselves be pushed fully into life, to be present and connected, to notice all of the wonder and love in the world around us, and to savor it.