The Pits and Pieces

  There are nine squares of faces on my screen, one of those faces mine. We’re talking about being present, about what we might be holding onto that no longer serves us. One of the women in the squares asks the question: What keeps you awake at night? Another wonders what she needs to let go of to live her best life. Another speaks of meditation grounding her in her daily tasks. I look at the squares, the notes I’ve written in my notebook, as I listen to these wise women who refuse to claim their wisdom. And I think, not for the first time, who am I to be here? I cannot speak as eloquently as these women do, I cannot articulate my thoughts and emotions and experiences into such stirring statements as “ the future is the result of what we do right now ” (Pema Chodron). Or “ Our life is a path of learning to wake up before we die” (Natalie Goldberg).   I am an imposter, in my elder years but lacking the accompanying wisdom. What am I holding on to? Why do I grasp so tightly t...

  I watched a movie recently, The Life List, about a dying mother who, instead of leaving her thriving business to her daughter, leaves her a series of DVDs and the life list her daughter wrote when she was 13 about things she wanted to do with her life. In the video messages, the mother encourages her now young adult daughter to go after these dreams. Do we relinquish the dreams of our youth, or do we set them aside, intending to pick them up one day. But the days go by, weeks, months, years turn into decades. And one day we find ourselves . . . old, but not old. Because, in our hearts and minds, we are still the youth we once were. Except, so much has changed, and are those same dreams the ones we want to chase now? Or have they shifted, evaporated, been replaced by something new. But what exactly? The new dreams are shrouded in mist, and we cannot quite discern the shapes, the textures. We only know that there is still something, something we must do. We begin to pay attenti...