I have this weird feeling. I’m happy and content.
‘What’s so weird about that?’ you may ask.
Well, there’s this Corona threat floating around that’s got me all locked up in LA; you’d think I’d be a bit worried about that, wouldn’t you? And then there’s my cancer that’s returned after 20 years, and, with all the prepping for the viral peak, my surgery is postponed until – who knows when … weird timing, huh? Plus, at my age, apparently I’m in that more vulnerable age group! Which means, if I had to battle these two Big C’s at the same time, the story may not end well.
And yet I feel a sense of joy and deep peace. Why?
Maybe it’s the third ‘C’, a cactus flower that sits on our breakfast table. A daily reminder of nature’s sacred geometry; balanced, intricate, prickly, slow growing, symmetrical, and blooming with life!
Maybe it’s because I've looked within and found the beauty of 'unknowing', gazed into the eyes of love and vulnerability and have come to accept my inevitable passing as a single thread on a broader tapestry, a small yet meaningful contribution to something much larger than myself.
Maybe it’s because, when I think about my 96 year old mother, plus my adorable children and grandchildren, I see them in me, and me in them … and know that it’s more than just my own solitary existence … it’s a continuum that spans countless generations.
Maybe it’s because when I look at my career and the talented colleagues and clients I've work with and learned from, my heart fills with gratitude.
Maybe it’s because my non-linear career choices, like so many women, were instrumental to my 'calling', preparing me for this pivotal moment.
Maybe it’s because I’ve let go of control … of that obsessive striving for perfection … of that compulsion to tweak and trim everybody and everything. It’s liberating to turn over onto one’s back and simply float instead of swimming against the tide, and though I know not where the current will take me, I’m fully open to the joy and beauty this next stage of my journey will bring.
Maybe it’s because I don’t see the purpose of one’s latter years as a foolish pursuit of youth, or an unwinnable war against ageing and decline. It’s not only about living well, but dying well, too … slowly writing the final chapters of my story with a sense of inner calm, from a place of grace … and peace.
Like the need for the ‘rest’ between the notes on a sheet of music, is there a deeper centre this forced Corona 'pause' is asking each of us? Is it to adopt a different rhythm of work and life? Is it to lead with deeper wholeness? It is to challenge systems that no longer serve us? Or are we waking to a new reality that we are all connected, life is fragile, and this earth is … holy ground?
Michelle Waters