The end of the year

Dear Ones,

Does it seem as if time is passing quickly? I suppose it is for all of us - after all, our lives, our important time to live and breathe and have our being - goes so quickly when we think about all those who have lived and died before us.

Mary Oliver, the poet, asks: What is it you will do with your one wild and precious life?

I like those words: wild, precious.

Wild because we get to make up our lives. We get to live them as fully ourselves as possible. We get to peel away the layers, live less with the expectations others have for us, and more with our own desires for ourselves. While we may not have complete freedom, we are free to know our feelings and to have our feelings and to express our feelings, and to allow that for others. It takes some work to get to the wildness of our lives, but the work is worthy work.

Precious because this is the one life we have, for now, as far as we know it. Some seem to know that we've lived before, and who we have been, and what important or unimportant things we have done. They may be right - I'm not willing to question their understanding, if that's how it is for them. But as far as we can discern, it seems as if all we have is this moment, this important moment.

At the end of the year, reflect on your life. Have you been living its wildness, its preciousness? If you have, then continue, for you are following the path you were meant to travel. If you have not, then how will you live from this day forward?

Kindly,

me