scribblechic

This year a woman I barely knew, a forgotten acquaintance from years past lost her battle with a terminal illness. The news found me last fall in the complicated algorithm of a social media news feed; a familiar smile disclosing the intimate heartache of a tragic diagnosis.

In the months to come I followed this woman’s story, cautiously counting my blessings with a guilty mindfulness for the unfathomable cruelty of another’s misfortune. I let her courage and kindness guide my attention.

Then I forgot.

Consciousness comes in waves. In one moment I am lost to my own distractions, caught in the machinery of the mundane as I move among my obligations. Then I remember the blessing of this moment, the complete irrelevance of so many cluttered details, and I unravel into a simpler attentiveness.

In these moments I say yes where I might have said no, I apologize or forgive where I might have lingered in harm, and I bend the rules to steal extra minutes with those I love. I’ve let the house get messy and I’ve been more adamant in cause for celebration.

I am trying to honor another’s life while demanding purpose and presence of my own.

We meet others at tender intersections of vulnerability and we invite their story into our own. In a world congested with differences, we are bound by the minutes of possibility between us.

Tagged: Family, Life, Musings