I suppose I would be denying my modern American birthright if I did not admit that I awakened with a pang of mortality & humility in my heart this morning as I faced being 65 years of age; a benchmark for all of us as we roll downhill into resplendent decrepitude until nothing is left of us but compost.
It’s a wonderful feeling, this mortality is, because it palpably reminds us that we are all no different from the flowers we love, that bud, bloom & die in their short, swift time on this planet, while their petals & sepals & bracts & leaves & stems & roots, for on to nurture other lives in one direction, & that our memories of them live on in us in another direction.
I am celebrating mortality today with a long walk in the desert, sometime in the permaculture orchard sowing seeds, pruning trees & arranging water lines, a short trip into Mexico to visit a St. Francis shrine then hunt for bootleg mescal with my wife, my in-laws & nephew & niece.
SAVOR EACH DAY. DO MODEST THINGS TO RESTORE YOUR HEART, BODY, FRIENDSHIPS AND THE WORLD AROUND YOU AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE. Pray for those who cannot easily get up & out to see the beautiful day hiding outside all around us.