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Dear Subscriber First Name, When I first wake up - which tends to be at an hour considered “uncivilized” by many people (but not by birds!) - I am doing so a bit more slowly these days. I find I am able to linger in that liminal state a bit more now, noticing I am still here, that my body is still breathing, that I can wiggle my fingers and toes, and that each of my senses still works. Touch. Smell. Hearing. Taste. Sight. Inhaling appreciation. Exhaling enoughness. Staying slow. Offering attention. It’s a practice. And it’s a practice that lays the groundwork for remembering the good fortune of still being alive; not taking for granted that we get this day, this moment. Reminding ourselves to “wake up grateful” helps us cultivate gratefulness when it is most fertile and generative. And, to be honest, even though I have been teaching this morning practice for years, I am more aware than ever how moment-to-moment and ever-renewing gratefulness truly is. How much it matters. How much of a difference it makes, and how easily it can slip away from us… I used to spring out of bed. I could hear the clock ticking in my sleep. To-do lists sitting idle had a foreboding feeling, like they were constantly growing longer on their own if I was not there to manage them. What needed “doing” activated my nervous system like I was running a race. Finish lines and deadlines were everywhere, and I wanted to cross all of them at once, and as soon as possible. The things that were yet undone kind of “undid” me. The day did not just beckon me to show up, it was begging for me, and at all hours. Even writing about being wired this way makes my heart beat harder…especially as I confess that this “I used to” is not ancient history, it is my recent past. When I was in cancer treatment 32 years ago, my friend Rebecca was too. I remember telling her I knew I would never be the same after going through an experience where I got to peer over the edge of the cliff to see my mortality and to know it as a promise; to understand it as a truth that I felt called to embrace and learn from. To let myself be changed by it. Her response to me is still vivid in my recall, “You will go back to being exactly like you were before cancer. We all will. Just wait and see.” It’s been decades since that conversation and I am so glad not to be the same person I was before cancer. (How is such a thing even possible, anyway?) I bow to my cancer history as a great teacher that helped me to treasure life and not take it for granted. But I do need to admit that facing mortality and surviving cancer changed me in ways that left with many gifts and also with some edges to work with. Edges of urgency and intensity that can sometimes make me not want to even waste time sleeping. Edges of anticipatory grief for all the things and people and moments I cherish so much and know I will “lose” one day. Edges of thin-skinnedness and tenderness that make tears one of my love languages. Edges of often wanting to be everywhere, with everyone I love, all at once. Edges of longing. Edges of overflowing my edges. There are as many things that can wake us up to how precious and ephemeral life is as there are human beings. It can happen to us in any and all moments, and we can have a practice of reminding ourselves of it in every moment. There are also endless ways that this realization - which is actually a remembering - can manifest in how we live our lives. In order not to shut down or numb out, those of us who commit to staying open-hearted in the face of all that is challenging, and who choose to live with an up-front awareness of all that is fleeting, could benefit from living with a sacred, loving to-do list. Right now, mine would include items such as these:
Remember: Vulnerability is your strong-suit. Don’t try to tamp it down. Beauty and wisdom are in your edges. They all come from loving life so much it hurts sometimes. Love and grief are inextricable. Love big anyway. Proceed as though you can learn from everything - you can. Be curious. Risk delighting in your quirks. Let them make you smile and laugh. The past is gone, the future is wildly unknown, and the present moment is precious. Relax about this. Gratefulness is not a refuge from facing reality. It is a doorway to deeper and bigger truths. All your to-do lists (including this one) can be edited and enlarged to your heart’s content. There is no such thing as perfection.
What about you? What do you want to remember? How do you want to hold your growth-edges? What do you want to remember that you “get to do” and be vs. “have to” do and be? Try this practice: Write a sacred to-do list. One that guides you to a bit more lovingly embrace all of what is true for you. One that might let you linger in bed a little longer and then get up and be more wholeheartedly present for your life. Or maybe one that invites you to forsake some sleep for the beauty of the stars and sunrise. ; ) Thank you for being part of the beauty of this grateful community. The museletter collection below and my website are offered to support you in being more fully and gratefully present for life. Please avail yourself of - and freely share - the gifts and invitations that are here. From my big, tender heart to yours, always -
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