This morning, I was sitting out with my cup of tea as the sun came up and it got to "that certain slant of light," the sun coming through every leaf like stained glass, and glowing on every strand of spider web pure shining silk, and I thought, "At least I got to be here. Whatever happens, I got to be here, at this moment, in this beauty, right now."
And it reminded me of so many moments, just like this one, when I've existed in the pure beauty of this world, and I just sat there in gratitude.
Because, as you know, when Libby was sick back in 2014, we resolved to be present to our lives and to love one another, because we know nothing is guaranteed.
Our lives are as ethereal as that moment when the sun shines through the new leaves of my redbud tree. And every bit as beautiful and meaningful. And we get to celebrate that, and live into that, when there is so little else within our control.
None of us knows for sure what happens after death. We have hopes, we have dreams, and if we are lucky, perhaps they are true. If we get to that place, I will be the happiest person there, I promise you.
But I have come to peace with the idea that if I die, and there is nothing afterward except ashes to ashes and dust to dust, and I'm simply joined into the universe to be part of the soil and the plants and the leaves in the spring, that is an eternity worth embracing.
Let me be grass and flowers.
Let me be water and red rocks.
Let me be stardust.
All is well.
"How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist." Saturn, Sleeping At Last
You taught me the courage of stars before you left
How light carries on endlessly, even after death
With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite
How rare and beautiful it is to even exist
I couldn't help but ask
For you to say it all again
I tried to write it down
But I could never find a pen
I'd give anything to hear
You say it one more time
That the universe was made
Just to be seen by my eyes
I couldn't help but ask
For you to say it all again
I tried to write it down
But I could never find a pen
I'd give anything to hear
You say it one more time
That the universe was made
Just to be seen by my eyes
With shortness of breath, I'll explain the infinite
How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist