My body and I are tuned in to the world around us

One of the benefits of someone special in your life passing is the wide and broad perspective it can bring. As mentioned, my grandfather was a lover of birds and trees. Now, I am noticing every single bird and tree I am hearing, as if for the first time.

His clarity in what he cared about is helping me ask the question: what do I care about? What is most important to me? What themes will I want people discussing as they share memories of me.

I am clear that a large part of my life’s work will be to take care of my body as a vessel of my being. That definition of “taking care” has broadened. It’s not only about food and exercise, although those are important. It’s also about getting exposure to the ocean or mountains, about playing and feeling new muscles, not just working the old ones. About laughter and learning and being a kid again, and having that just be who I am, not a role I try on when I want an excuse to be immature.

I am opening and it’s getting me closer to clarity. I can’t just go find that clarity. I am working on getting in the groove so the clarity just shows up.

There’s a woman in Rockport, MA who dances on the beach. She is stunning to watch – I get mesmerized. What I admire most is her boldness. Her moves are beautiful and graceful too, but her boldness is what strikes me first: to really not give a crap about what anyone thinks and dance. Sometimes I feel like I am interrupting her intimate time with nature. Like the rest of us on the public beach shouldn’t be there. She is beautiful and I am adopting “dancing in Rockport” as a new value that I have for myself.

Big love today.

My body and I are reflecting

I attended my grandfather’s – Pop-pop’s – funeral yesterday. It was full of love and sadness. His body is now a pile of ashes, sitting in a lovely wooden urn with trees and mountains on it. I didn’t know urns could be like that. I thought “I’d like that” and it was strange to find another thing in common with my grandfather after he had passed.

He loved birds and, since his death (and it being Spring), I’ve noticed them being louder than ever. It’s amazing to realize that his legacy is ever-present and easy: something I can reach for really at any moment to remind me of him. He was a teacher. A professor. And he touched the lives of many. They were present – in spirit – at his funeral. He was a quiet force.

And I am his legacy too. I feel loving responsibility to continue the force he created in the world.

My body and I stuffed ourselves full of food that we thought would make us feel better, but it didn’t. I’m back “on land” now and getting resituated, but with a different feeling. The depth is okay. Being kind to others, openly, is fine and people notice. Pop-pop did that for people. He made them feel like they mattered and then connected them to something bigger (nature, history) to gain perspective.

I ended up listening to Amy Poehler’s book on the way home. Turns out I have a lot in common with her too. Many reminders this weekend that though our bodies are quite different, we are all connected. Ubuntu.