We all reach places in life. Crossroads, turning points, junctures, choices, decisions – even Rubicon moments. For me, after nineteen years, I’ve reached a place of happiness and peace having come into the quiet of my heart. I feel settled. Life is simple, so I’m going with the ease and grace of that.
I’ve done a lot of letting go since I did some deep spiritual work earlier in the year. Relationships, patterns, behaviours, concepts, survivor’s guilt … the list goes on. We all release shit as our lives evolve, and it just so happens that this has been the year to let go of shit that just doesn’t serve me anymore.
Last night, I did a solar eclipse meditation where I anchored myself to the ground, and drew in the energy of the stars, the sun and the moon, and plugged into cosmos. This morning, I released it. I splintered it into a trillion pieces so that soft shards of love went to every human, animal and plant. Then I made myself a cup of tea, and sat in the garden; the sun at my back, the wind brushing my skin, and the hum of bees and the prattle of birds in the peach tree.
There was no rush. Just the warmth of the sun above me, a hot cuppa in my hands, and two dogs that came to greet me after their breakfast.
It’s hard to believe that as I write, this time nineteen years ago I was on life support in intensive care after having surgery for a double lung transplant. I very nearly croaked it, as my friend Nic would say, and over the years I’ve come far too close to dying more times than is comfortable.
Like last year, I’m going to mark this year’s Transplanniversary by having an otherwise ordinary day. There’ll be no celebration. Instead, there’ll be a silent commemoration for my donor and her family who I know are still grieving after nearly two decades. A family who will grieve for their daughter, sister, wife and friend until the end of time. That is something that is never lost on me. Not ever.
There’s so much grace and wonder in the every day, and we forget that it’s even there. We’re all guilty – focusing on shit that shouldn’t concern us, like what people think of us, our beliefs and values, how we look, how we should act, how to go about our business, life, relationships.
The older you get, the less attention you dedicate to what others think about how you should be living your life. You only get one, so my hard won advice is to gather yourself up and find the marvellous in the mundane (for some strange reason, doing laundry brings me unparalleled joy), and revel in the fact that after all these years, Dr. Seuss is still right – ‘today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer that You’.
So go and grab your beautiful, messy life by the vagina (they’re far more resilient than balls), and shape it into something you’d be proud to look back on either at the end of the day, or at the end of your life. In the end, the only thing that matters is the love you give, the love you share, and the love you get back. Oh, and be kind, compassionate and do your best to help other people. That’s the secret to true happiness. You can thank me later.
Endnote: My mum turns seventy next week. She has loved me, nurtured me, taught and guided me. She’s been the kindest, most loving and selfless mother a person could ever ask for. Yeah, I know – that’s a lot for a person to be, but she’s been all that and more. Jewel by name, and Jewel by nature. Also the bravest person I know. Love and kindness is the answer, people.