When I die, give what’s left of me away to children and old men that wait to die. And if you need to cry, cry for your brother walking the street beside you. And when you need me, put your arms around anyone and give them what you need to give me.
I want to leave you something. something better than words or sounds. Look for me in the people I’ve known or loved, and if you cannot give me away, at least let me live in your eyes and not in your mind.
You can love me best by letting hands touch hands, and by letting go of children that need to be free. Love doesn’t die, people do. So, when all that’s left of me is love, give me away.
My 2018… wasn’t so great. I didn’t talk about it very much on social media, so apologies if this is surprising to some of you. I lost my sight, barely avoided a diagnosis of MS or brain tumor and instead was told I have atypical optic neuritis.
On top of that, kiddo was in the hospital for nearly a month. It was a very rough year. Kiddo has recovered and is doing absolutely wonderful. She’s the absolute light of our lives.
As for me, I’m grateful for what happened. It sounds ridiculous to feel positive about something so scary, but it made my “vision” for myself so much clearer. I’m still not 100%. But, without the help of some amazing doctors and nutritional guidance by Christopher Kent, I very much doubt I would have had as much of a recovery as I had. This January 1 looks so different from last year, both in my nutrition, in my spiritual growth, and in my general outlook on life.
My one new year resolution is to be more present. I want to remember that every day is a gift. Every day is a brand new start. Every day is a bit of improvement in my vision, in my understanding of life, in watching my daughter grow up, in being with my husband, in nurturing friendships.
Today I asked my body what she needed. Which is a big deal Considering my joumey of Not Really Asking That Much. I thought she might need more water. Or protein. Or greens. Or yoga. Or supplements. Or movement. But as I stood in the shower Reﬂecting on her stretch marks, Her roundness where I would like ﬂatness. Her softness where I would like ﬁrmness. All those conditioned wishes That form a bundle of Never-Quite-Right-Ness. She whispered very gently: Could you just love me like this?
Right this daytime minute, the stars above are below as well. Under your feet! On the other side of the Earth! Whatever you’re doing right now, you’re doing it in the midst of stars. Wherever you are on the pale blue dot — in Australia, in Alaska, in Guatemala — stars surround and cradle you.
Peer through the blue squint at the clouds, nod your recognition to all that star-filled space behind them. Seeing no end, sense how precious small you are. Settle in, cherish the flesh that embodies your tiny piece of all that magnificence.
Sometimes you’ll forget where you truly spin. After all, the gauzy atmosphere of Earth has its own allure and learning, and birds bring you near to yourself in a fashion more intimate than stars. But when you remember the wider view and pump your perspective hard, you’ll work the muscle that buffs you multidimensional, and makes you a spirit athlete.
Switching your view back and forth, out to in, from stars to birds, builds a giant alignment. Stamina! You can do anything. Courage! You can go anywhere. Suppleness! You can talk with anyone at all. For you belong to the clan of creators, we who whirl in the stars aware we are surrounded and cradled in radiance.