Natasha Bedingfield sings “Unwritten”. A limited number of the words popped into my head a moment ago. Google helped me find the rest:
I am unwritten, can’t read my mind
I’m undefined
I’m just beginning, the pen’s in my hand
Ending unplanned
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten
When the multiple diagnosis flooded across my mind, I definitely accepted “an end in sight”. We all die. There is nothing wrong with accepting that there will be a terminal moment for the body. I quite encourage it! It frees the mind, frees the body, frees the spirit. A quizzical part of me wonders whether a person can actually get to this space without a catalyst. Try. Why not!
“The rest is still unwritten.” Jan, Ndudi, and a host of others opened a new window. What if this is NOT the end, or a quick end anyway. “Drench yourself in words unspoken. Live your life with arms wide open.” The balance screams. It feels like war. But the one who watches from above knows it as a dance.
To live life for the experience, “feel the rain on your skin”, is illuminated now by Covid 19. The moment calls us. Appreciate the distinct… the colors, the scents, the sounds, those who are close in our lives. Notice. Be here now (yes, I do encourage some Ram Dass). Everyone on the planet has this extreme homework. And we’ve been in a fog, ignoring it!
Death, the other partner in the Tango, evolves as a sequel. In accepting it’s inevitability, we wipe the “dirty window”, and see the evolution of our life on the other side. There are no ends. “Today is where your book begins.”
micheleplumbstowell.org 