I cannot tell you how often I type the word “Live” when I want to sign off my emails with “Love,” as in Love, Marianna. The I and O are next to each other on the cell phone keyboard, and my chubby thumb is clumsy. Maybe if I lost an extra 10 pounds, I would say what I mean.
Or maybe what I actually mean to say is Live.
As in be alive. Now.
If you find yourself going mad, go to lunch and keep driving till you get to the beach or mountain or field of wildflowers that brings you home to yourself.
If someone you love has gone away, or never came, grieve till you get to the bottom of it.
If singing is your thing, do it once every day. More if you’re brave enough to keep feeling alive.
If you have finally figured out & named that little, unique thing you love about someone, tell them.
Several years ago I moved into a sweet house with a verdant yard that calls me outdoors. I named it Cielo en Tierra – Heaven on Earth. For weeks I was graced with the unmistakable warmth of gratitude each day and especially when I looked out the bay window at the 120 year old oak tree in my back yard.
This tree was the thing that made me say yes to the house. Ten steps past the front door, a bay window framed this force of nature and I was drawn like a Yo Yo to the hand of someone playing with me. The window, the tree, the blue sky, my breath. All of it a bit overwhelming. She was beautiful. I turned and said, “I’d like to rent this house.” That was four years ago.
At the same time I was struggling with a certain inner tension. Let me explain. At Bread for the Journey, our vision is To Nurture the Seed of Generosity in Every Human Heart. As Executive Director, I had been practicing generosity by nudging the limits of my giving, noticing the places where generosity is easy and where it’s not. Following in the footsteps of new friends who were immersed in the “gift economy” movement, I wanted to provide my grief support services as a gift to anyone who needed them, but was afraid. I worried that giving away my services would reduce the value of my work; worried there would be too many takers and it would interfere with my job at Bread for the Journey; worried that it was an unwise move for a woman who did not have much financial security. And yet I deeply wanted to do it.
What do we live for if not to make life less difficult for others?
Yesterday I needed my friends and they needed me. It was a day when magic happened with near strangers, where the “shared world” was in high relief and it was obvious that we’re all connected in a web of wonder.
I woke up feeling unsure of myself, and as I spoke to a friend while drinking my morning coffee, I cried some. Now, one thing I have learned is that having friends who listen well and have the capacity to hold sorrow without needing to repair the problem are good as gold. And if that friend sees the beauty in you AND is outspoken about it, well, she’s a keeper.
Laurie is one of those friends and she did something remarkable for me. Read more