still assembling life

I was raised to be kind and to be fair. Mom (both mom's), somewhere in and between the lines of what you tried to teach me is this...

How can we know where we are going, if we don't know where we stand?

Be accountable for your actions . Is this the hill you are willing to die on?

Unwind yourself each night. "How was my day? What happened? What was my intent? What was the outcome? What will I do differently tomorrow?"

Somewhere, someone will be impacted by you. If you are going to challenge them, make it about something worth standing for.

If you are the only one showing up, there is no relationship. Conserve energy. You will need it to feed what matters.

There are people who will feed your soul and those who will seem to want to erase it. Keep the ones that feed you. That is fair. Throw love at the others if you can, as they go.

Be kind to everyone until it becomes necessary to meet the energy, then be fair but meet the energy. Speak the unspeakable with ruthless compassion.

Sometimes being angry is a perfectly sane human response to an extraordinarily entitled world.

If someone refuses to communicate with you because you are upset, what did they do with all the opportunities to make things right when you were not? That is more telling of their character and intent.

Rage teaches us what matters. There is always new life after a storm. That is how things work in all of nature. So, when you meet someone who is upset about something, remember - they are not the person who pulled the trigger.

Hear them. That is triage.

A child, in their simple wisdom might ask, "I wonder why that person is upset?"

Be a child. A child is teachable.

If someone tells you they don't care by word or by deed, stop trying unless they are worth dying for. You might.

Clean your filter.

If someone pulls the trigger and blames you for caring, it doesn't matter why. It is their baggage. Let them carry it.

There is a difference between trust and faith. Have faith that a person will keep showing up the way they do, unless they care... to change it.

You cannot change it for them.

Care for where you spend your energy, or you will either end up sick or hardened.

When you must, make your boundaries clear, short, and firm. Then let your actions follow your words. That is integrity.

Boundaries are not for other people. They are for us.

They are our deepest held values. They are our intent to go forward into the world, supported and appreciated for the gifts we have to offer.

They are you, stepping into life in ways you were meant to, and they are the actions you will sometimes need to take to birth your dreams.

At the centre of all boundaries is care. If we care to listen, people will always share what is important to them. If we don't care to listen to the whisper, we will inevitably hear the roar... or we will lose a friend.

"What kind of human will I choose to be today?" I will choose to be kind, fair, and empowered in places where I used to only be kind and fair.

These are some of the lessons I aspire to never forget. They are, in many ways, the lessons that both hurt and healed me the most.

I travelled 63 cycles on this planet at the time of this writing. That is young for an elder... a baby really. It is a time when I should strive to talk less and live more.

Life is short. So, maybe I won't 'should' on myself.

At 63 years young, I looked back at all the bites I have taken out of life and discovered shifting filters of meaning. Nothing looks quite the same from the other end of the telescope.

This is the time of life when my mother began to slip into the crack between the worlds. She died there for 6 years - and in the years following her death, I could hear my father's words, "you are next, you know..." ringing in my ears.

No, not me. My mother and most of her siblings unraveled in the quiet desperation of Alzheimer's.

No, not me.

This year, I am at the age of onset in our lineage... a willing student... seeking to understand the lesson... intending never to meet the test.

If we don't care to listen to the whisper, we inevitably hear the scream.

The body is a ruthless master, requiring us to finely tune ourselves to its most subtle language. I'm listening.

Alzheimer's, it seems, is about having one foot in and one foot outside of life.

It is about what we do with the tyrants in our lives... and in our minds. At least that is what it has whispered to me in the unwindings of my maternal lineage.

It matters where you look.

Threaded among the stories of my ancestors were inevitable crossroads - moments in time, defining generations. Life or death? All sat with that choice.

I once went for lunch with my father. It was during a time when my mother was still here, but already gone. There was a couple sitting near a window, obviously together for many years.

Some might say they beat the odds.

He looked to the right, and she looked away. They ate in silence. As they explored the space, I thought their eyes might finally meet... but they only glazed over, passing each other's silhouette. They were there, vacant, in that restaurant... there, but already gone.

They were just on this side of death. My mother was on the other. Crossroads. Nothing looks quite the same from the other end of the telescope.

Fear has a funny way of making us pay attention.

I recall my visits with my mom. I would meet the other 'inmates' on arrival. Some did not seem to know they were locked away, "Hello, it is very nice to meet you... again", they would chirp - as if the last lucid moment they anchored to was one where they experienced joy.

My mom had a very different experience, or so it seemed. She suffered. It was as if she felt cheated out of life. Hers was a reality of clenched teeth and resistance. I wondered how long she'd been on this side of death, pretending to live.

I decided, if I was meant to go on that journey, I'd rather be the one who is "very glad to meet you... again." Still, I was afraid... not of dying, but of suffering.

If I am meant to go on that journey... no, not me.

I am learning that so much of life is about presence. Where have I been afraid to show up?

We are choosing in every moment between life and death... and although our body persists for a time, most of us are only alive for part of it.

Everyone has their own reasons for stepping out, sometimes. I'm sure there were moments of real connection between those two elders at lunch. They were on this side of death, after all. So, they must have been present for some of what life still had to offer.

Sometimes... Sometimer's. Thank you, Jeremy, for that one! Maybe stepping out some of the time is okay, as long as I don't forget to come back to centre... to life. Homeostasis.

Jeremy was a grandfather I had the privilege of 'seeing' some of the time, when I chose to be present. He was so full of wisdom and love, he wore out his heart 5 times before his journey home! I wish I'd have paid more attention.

One of the most valuable truths I learned from Grandfather Jeremy was that presence is a gift.

It is often unknown before you open it.

When you are most afraid, find a way to open it.

We all need to decide how we will receive life. Our death depends on it, if we are going to choose a powerful death.

How can you know where you are going, if you don't know where you stand? Well, at the end of the day... or at the end of a life, I guess I stand where we all stand - inside that unknown gift... still assembling life.