It's an absolutely gorgeous day in central Texas. A new year approaches. Tonight, we celebrate its arrival. I contemplate: "This is my last New Year's Eve!" Everyone is making quick decisions about how they want to spend it. Our personal plans have changed two or three times already. The final decision: we stay local. We invite a handful of close friends over and we do some ceremony to mark the end and the beginning... No crowds. No driving. No drunken hooping and hollering. Just my sweetie, intimate friends, good snacks, some champagne, lots of love, and a bit of magic...Perfect.
And so it is: this New Year's Eve I celebrate the end, the beginning, and the End, for it is my last-ever New Year's as this person having this life. And as this person having this life, I can say that my heart is full, and as the Native Americans say, "Today is a good day to die, for all the things of my life are present."
3:51 p.m.: Hours now into this last day of 2009 and the energy all around is shifting. The truth is that my friends and I contemplate Lady Death more then your average Jane. The spiritual path we all follow encourages us to keep "The Lady" close at hand, for one never knows when they will feel the tap of her long finger on their shoulder. We've learned to honor the Angel of Death as our ally; she teaches us to live more fully, as she has the power to call us "home" at any moment.
The question is: "Can we really find more life by feeling more death?"
Have a happy-filled, warm-hearted, face-smiling, slapping good time tonight folks! No matter where you are or what you do, celebrate tonight as though it were your last New Years Eve ever, because it just might be...
©2010 Cecilia L. Zúñiga. A Year To Live. All Rights Reserved. Reprints, copies or reproductions of any kind must be accompanied by copyright credit line.
31 December 2009
Cold storm, warm heart
So last week I went away for some R&R. No TV; no computer; no radio... just a beautiful cove, lots of birds, my dog, a book, and my sweetie. Weather was in the upper 60s, sunny, and beautiful when we left, and maybe 40s at night. It shifted the day we arrived at our lakefront getaway, clouding up and dropping into the 40s during the day; 20s at night. It started to rain and rain and rain. The heater in the place wasn't working. And the wood box for the stove was empty. Someone called to tell us we were under a tornado warning and to be careful. As we huddled in bed that night under every blanket we could find in the place, a storm raged outside. Not just ANY storm, but a wild-wind, hard-rain, tree-shaking, branch-breaking, thunder-booming, lightening-flashing bona fide tornado storm. I kept reminding myself that the place could take 120-mile-an-hour winds, or so the owner said. "Certainly this tornado is not packing 120-mile-an-hour winds" I thought; and I let that thought cycle in my brain like a prayerful mantra: "120-mile-an-hour winds. 120-mile-an-hour winds. 120-mile-an-hour winds." The place whistled, creaked, and shook in the wind, and I cringed and shuddered under the covers of our second-story nest. I wondered out loud what the birds did in a storm like that: "How do they keep warm and dry?" I asked, "Or how do they take the cold and rain?" My sweetie didn't know. I felt fortunate to have a roof over our heads - at least for the moment - keeping us dry. I thought if the roof did blow off, I might better understand how the birds feel. I got up a couple of times to pace off some nervous energy and check the flashlights; they didn't work. I went back to bed where it was warm...er.
Funny, I wasn't afraid to die that night. But I was afraid for my sweetie and my dog. I didn't want them to suffer or hurt. And I didn't want to see it. I laid there in bed wondering how that might feel... to see them suffering, hurt, cold, wet, dying. Or maybe I'd be dying. I wondered, "How would it feel? How would it feel for that to be the last thing I saw before I die?" And I didn't know.
But what I did know was that at that moment, my dog was safely, soundly sleeping and my sweetie was laying next to me in the comfy, dry bed like a warm bathrobe wrapped around my body. And so, I closed my eyes and melted into that. When I woke up, the sun was out, the trees were still, and my heart was warm. I felt my lips curve into a big, silent smile, and I thought, "Well. That was fun..."
©2010 Cecilia L. Zúñiga. A Year To Live. All Rights Reserved. Reprints, copies or reproductions of any kind must be accompanied by copyright credit line.
Funny, I wasn't afraid to die that night. But I was afraid for my sweetie and my dog. I didn't want them to suffer or hurt. And I didn't want to see it. I laid there in bed wondering how that might feel... to see them suffering, hurt, cold, wet, dying. Or maybe I'd be dying. I wondered, "How would it feel? How would it feel for that to be the last thing I saw before I die?" And I didn't know.
But what I did know was that at that moment, my dog was safely, soundly sleeping and my sweetie was laying next to me in the comfy, dry bed like a warm bathrobe wrapped around my body. And so, I closed my eyes and melted into that. When I woke up, the sun was out, the trees were still, and my heart was warm. I felt my lips curve into a big, silent smile, and I thought, "Well. That was fun..."
©2010 Cecilia L. Zúñiga. A Year To Live. All Rights Reserved. Reprints, copies or reproductions of any kind must be accompanied by copyright credit line.
23 December 2009
A Year to Live
Nearly two months ago I began a journey into a year to live. Follow my adventure through this final year. This is my first blog entry:
314…That’s how many days I have left to live. My final year started on November 1, 2009 and ends on November 1, 2010. Yep – that’s one year, alright; one year left to live…
I’m just around the corner from being two months into this year and already, things feel different. In November when this began, 365 days - 12 months - felt like an awfully long time considering I live most days with the awareness that it might be my last. Having 365 days guaranteed suddenly felt like plenty!
In the first few weeks of this journey, everything felt extra special. I spent as much time as possible with
friends and family, holding in my heart that my time with them was limited. Thanksgiving left me in a quandary as I contemplated who to spend my last one with: Where did I most want to be and with whom? Now, Christmas approaches and the same contemplation arises: How do I really want to spend this Christmas?
What I’m finding is that wherever I am and whomever I am with is perfect. No place or person is better or worse than any other, no matter what our relationship may be. Every experience is worth having, makes me human, and reminds me of my humanness. Every fleeting moment is cherished for whatever it offers. Every experience makes life life. Life is all times, not just the ones we like. And right now, I am feeling happy and grateful to have them, one and all.
So this is my last year. Am I really going to sell everything and move to Italy? Travel the world? Confess all of my guilts? Throw caution to the wind? The truth is that the people and places I love most are all right here, just like in that silly Christmastime movie “It’s a Wonderful Life.” You know when I was younger, I hated that movie. I hated that Jimmy Stewart’s character gave up all of his dreams for others; it felt like he was robbed of his freedom and finally just gave up. I never understood why people liked it so much…
But now I’m getting a different feel for it. Now, I’m beginning to see that what’s really important is always right here before me, wherever I am and whomever I’m with. All I have to do is open the eyes of my heart.
©2010 Cecilia L. Zúñiga. A Year To Live. All Rights Reserved. Reprints, copies or reproductions of any kind must be accompanied by copyright credit line.
314…That’s how many days I have left to live. My final year started on November 1, 2009 and ends on November 1, 2010. Yep – that’s one year, alright; one year left to live…
I’m just around the corner from being two months into this year and already, things feel different. In November when this began, 365 days - 12 months - felt like an awfully long time considering I live most days with the awareness that it might be my last. Having 365 days guaranteed suddenly felt like plenty!
In the first few weeks of this journey, everything felt extra special. I spent as much time as possible with
friends and family, holding in my heart that my time with them was limited. Thanksgiving left me in a quandary as I contemplated who to spend my last one with: Where did I most want to be and with whom? Now, Christmas approaches and the same contemplation arises: How do I really want to spend this Christmas?
What I’m finding is that wherever I am and whomever I am with is perfect. No place or person is better or worse than any other, no matter what our relationship may be. Every experience is worth having, makes me human, and reminds me of my humanness. Every fleeting moment is cherished for whatever it offers. Every experience makes life life. Life is all times, not just the ones we like. And right now, I am feeling happy and grateful to have them, one and all.
So this is my last year. Am I really going to sell everything and move to Italy? Travel the world? Confess all of my guilts? Throw caution to the wind? The truth is that the people and places I love most are all right here, just like in that silly Christmastime movie “It’s a Wonderful Life.” You know when I was younger, I hated that movie. I hated that Jimmy Stewart’s character gave up all of his dreams for others; it felt like he was robbed of his freedom and finally just gave up. I never understood why people liked it so much…
But now I’m getting a different feel for it. Now, I’m beginning to see that what’s really important is always right here before me, wherever I am and whomever I’m with. All I have to do is open the eyes of my heart.
©2010 Cecilia L. Zúñiga. A Year To Live. All Rights Reserved. Reprints, copies or reproductions of any kind must be accompanied by copyright credit line.
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