People say that what we’re all seeking is a meaning for life. I don’t think that’s what we’re really seeking. I think that what we’re seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonances within our own innermost being and reality, so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive.
– Joseph Campbell
Things that resonate with my innermost being and reality to transcend the physical plane and make me feel the rapture of being alive:
My Children. Whether it is looking at their chubby cheeked baby and toddler days captured in photo, or watching them sleep, or hearing them laugh and play with each other and their friends, or just noticing the work that time is doing on them as they grow into beautiful young people; they stop me in my tracks daily with awe, with gratitude, with bone wearying fear, with frustration, with the deepest love in the universe.
The light in autumn. I noticed its return a couple of weeks ago. At 1 pm, driving home from my office, the light had lost it’s blinding beyond-whiteness of summer and had yellowed ever so slightly. It was midday but the sun was softer, just barely so, but just enough. A shift in the wheel.
Leaves in the wind. Whether they are attached to the tree and holding steadfast or have let go to free flutter on an imperceptible course. These things remind me of the only two things that ever need to be remembered. It is either time to hold on or time to let go. You just have to figure out which is the next best step to take.
The smell of Old Things. That special blend of pheromones, dust, and decay. When you open an old book and the perfume of someone’s home mingles with ink and paper and binding glue. The “old people” smell on clothing that reminds you of everyone’s grandparents’ house, musty but not foul, mild cedar and mothballs, nicotine, lavender, and long ago manufactured polyester. I love these smells. They remind me of everything that has past and will never return. Time only goes forward. Remember to LIVE NOW.
Kissing. (Sex, too, but only sometimes) Kissing always, though… and breathing someone in and letting them breathe you. And forgetting to breathe, or not wanting to stop kissing in order to breathe, but your is brain screaming with joy and also distress because you MUSTbreatheRIGHTNOWandNOWyouMUSTKISShimMORE.RIGHTNOW. (Lol)
Grief. All the love you have left over after someone has gone. You can either hold onto it and let it sour within you, or pour it out, in retelling the stories about them that you love and adore, or act in the way they would be proud, and passing on all the things you wish you could have said or done or shared with those who are still here. And, the grief for those who are still here that you can’t love anymore, for whatever reasons, can still be poured out and water other relationships, mostly the one with yourself. Pour love onto yourself and grow through the grief and the hurt bits. All those “I love yous” that can’t be said to them can be said to yourself. I love you, silly girl. I love you, rebel spirit. I love you, broken heart. I love you, Mean Girl. I love you like clear water.
Pour, pour, pour.