Live and Learn and Pass it On

Last year for my birthday I received a very attractive journal as a gift. At the time, I was also reading 4000 Weeks by Oliver Burkeman. 4000 weeks is significant because it is an average lifespan. How do we spend those 4000 weeks? I decided I would document the next 52 weeks of my life in my new journal.

Last night I read through my journal entries. Like so much of my life, I started well, recording ideas and thoughts almost every day. Then gaps began to appear, with spurts of new entries on a theme spread out over months. Then it petered out...nothing at all for half a year. And now, in the last weeks, beginning again, as though my guilty self tries to make up for lost time. 

And what have I learned? That I lack self-discipline and am inconsistent – but I already knew that!

What have I experienced? Oh, so much. Every day was a new day to explore, with adventures awaiting me. And from these experiences, I gleaned some insights: 

Insight number one: sadly, there were – and are, still – many days when I powered through without noticing how precious that day was – that’s reality for us mortals, I think. 

 But then, like a shaft of sunlight piercing the leafy branches of trees and illuminating a path, insights and revelations break through.  Unexpected insights are precious moments. Be open, be on the lookout for them.

 Insight number 2: There’s a lot of bad news circulating these days. That’s why I engage in “hope-questing”-- looking for helpful insights, positive stories, beauty, and wisdom. These bits of light shine through the murk. You can find them everywhere: nature, social media, fiction, poetry, music, art, friends, family, news stories, unexpected places. Even from unexpected people – some of whom we might perceive as being weird or misguided.  

 

Wisdom from the pepper pot: 

this is a broken motto-ware jug I put in my planter to remind me to smile.

What is good and useful in life is a gift. Accept with open hands. 

Insight number 3: I copy wise words, quotes and insights into my notebook kept beside me for just such occasions. Writing by hand seems to fix those words in my mind. There’s a word for just such a notebook: Zibaldone – “a notebook that  contains a blend of literature, prayers, personal memoirs.” Many of the quotes that I included in my Lenten reflections were gathered from my zibaldone. I love that I can learn from others, that their words are preserved to be handed on, and that I, too, can be part of that chain of learning.

This is a nurse log in Cathedral Grove.

Old trees don't just die. As they decompose, they provide sustenance 

for myriads of other life. There's a lesson in there for us! 

 

Insight number 4: I have so much more to learn, and not so much more time to learn it. This is hard to accept, but statistics tell me that I am nearing the life-expectancy of the average woman in Canada. How do I deal with this? I’m not the only one asking this question; conversations with friends often gravitate there. Life is precious – how do I spend what is left of the weeks allotted to me? I have some thoughts on this, jotted down in my zibaldone – tasks to complete, decisions to make, conversations that need to be had, nurturing the drive to create that dwells in me, elevating gratitude to a daily habit, giving love freely, accepting and loving my imperfect self so I can do that necessary loving. 

And more...

4,057 Weeks – that’s how old I am now. And with God’s grace, I move on in gratitude. 

 

 

I believe this image is a painting by David Hockney, an artist who died last week.