There is a great release when I stop trying so hard and remember to simply allow life to be what it is. In other parts of my life it’s easy to convince myself that I’m running the show. Look at me, making things happen! Being with dying quickly deflates that illusion. And still, it’s an ongoing process of noticing myself trying too hard, and gradually remembering to allow. Life is so damn daily.
Mom was diagnosed last winter. I moved in with her in the spring. We enjoyed an expansive, quality summer. We geared down in the fall, preparing for goodbye. Now we are in winter again. After counting the expected months on our fingers, we’ve ended up living through a full cycle of the seasons together.
A year ago I was celebrating the end of semester and getting ready for the home stretch of my degree. Now I’m celebrating the end of chemo and getting ready for the home stretch of Mom’s life. There is nothing to do but allow. Mark Nepo nails it in these final words of his poem, Understory...
When jarred by life, we might
unravel the story we tell ourselves
and discover the story we are in,
the one that keeps telling us.
