A note from Erin:
Everything is a gift and nothing lasts.
This line keeps surfacing in my consciousness, like a whale coming up for a breath. Pfffff.
Everything is a gift and nothing lasts.
The light on the golden weeping cut leaf birch leaves, the magical flurry of large snowflakes that graced the air yesterday morning and disappeared on contact, the pile of shoes and clothes that fit our growing boy until all of a sudden they don’t fit anymore. The darkening days and the glowing beeswax candles, the colorful mini-prayer flags fluttering above the radiator’s heat, the steamy hot shower with my mom’s handmade soap, the way he loves to snuggle and read stories on the couch first thing every morning.
Everything is a gift and nothing lasts.
the weeping cutleaf birch, one of my favorite trees
The candle glowing in front of the photo of Nana and Papa, lit for Papa on the Day of the Dead. Their 70-plus years of true love, still true as ever but now that he’s gone, profoundly different. The way everyone in the family is still disoriented because we all knew they were supposed to be together forever. The dream my mom had that he was sitting right there, in his t-shirt, blue jeans and suspenders with Nana at the assisted living center, and in her dream he said “I sit with her from time to time.” The dinner where we talked about the dream and about their parents, our ancestors. Everything is a gift and nothing lasts.
My Scottish ancestors. If you look closely you can see the scratchy marks around the husband’s photo.
It’s because at the time the photo was taken he was dead. He’d been killed in a carriage accident and in those days it was inappropriate for the family to have a photo without him. Thus old-school photo-shop ensued and an earlier photo of him was spliced into the family’s photo.
The recent wedding where two huge-hearted grownups declared their true love and the officiant prompted them to ask each other, “Is you is or is you ain’t my baby?”
The hand-written cards that arrived in the mailbox. The tender and deep connections with beloved friends. The dear old friends I don’t see so often anymore. The smell of roasting root veggies in the evening. The steam from my green tea lit up by a shaft of sunlight. The neighborhood kids who come over and make themselves right at home. Everything is a gift and nothing lasts.
some of our many awesome neighborhood kids helping to smush the leaves in our yard-waste bin so we could keep raking
The few gray hairs I’m delighted to discover. The brightness in Carl’s blue eyes. The freckle on my son’s chin. The trips to the desert to camp in what our boy calls the “Halikari Desert.” The way my purse used to be a private realm and now attracts curious little hands digging for treasure. The teacher I learned so much from whom I hope I never see again. The mix-tapes Carl made in the early days of our courtship. The grasshoppers and the seemingly-endless green.
Everything is a gift and nothing lasts.
Everything is a gift and nothing lasts.
Stitching this phrase through my days has been a blessing.
These whale-breaths that wake me up and nudge me….
Pay attention.
Find the blessing.
It’s passing.
Everything is a gift and nothing lasts.
Here’s a beauty from Mary Oliver’s new book.
The Gift
by Mary Oliver (from Felicity)
Be still, my soul, and steadfast.
Earth and heaven both are still watching
though time is draining from the clock
and your walk, that was confident and quick,
has become slow.
So, be slow if you must, but let
the heart still play its true part.
Love still as once you loved, deeply
and without patience. Let God and the world
know you are grateful.
That the gift has been given.
Yes. Let God and the world know you are grateful. That the gift has been given.
It simply requires our willingness to receive the gifts.
I’m inspired by this beautiful suggestion from Henry James,
“Try to be one of those on whom nothing is lost.”
Yes. Let’s do that.
Wishing you a deepening connection with the inner light on these darkening days,
Erin
p.s. Still to come soon! A fantastic retreat in Costa Rica March 25-April 1st, Women Embodied Live 2016 (all the dates are now set!) and early registration opens next week, a retreat in Santa Fe next September, a visit from Russell Delman in March, a class for men in February, good ol’ weekend Feldy workshops, a new online course, and much more. Details coming very soon! We can’t wait to share it all with you.
p.p.s. Your reading this is a gift. Thank you. |
