Life is a gift

Last night I went to Woodstock, to dance and to celebrate the life of a musician, Betty MacDonald. She was an old friend to many and a new friend to some. I don't recall ever not knowing her. Her rich approach to life, and the many ways she gave back to community, touched many people, many of whom were among the folks stomping their feet to Marc Black and Company. It was a collective, musical outpouring of that sad reality: we are only here for a short time. All that I experienced during that short time of moving my feet to the beat was a reminder to love the life you are in, the body that you inhabit, and the people who are in it.

Grief is the oyster in the shell. The uncomfortable gem that rolls around inside our hearts when the web has yet another hole. In my own experience I have learned that it just becomes a part of who you will be. This sense of loss will become less sharp and mellow with time. But it will not leave. Rather, it will open you. The oyster offering its' prize.

Remember to love. Holy, passionate, all embracing love is the best of the human experience. With no exceptions, offer your hand in friendship to those who surround you. Be remembered one day for the goodness of your true essence.

And if you have a few moments, bring to your consciousness those who have moved beyond your scope of understanding. This is how we hold the web, by the remembrance of all we have held dear.