I Stopped Should-ing on Myself

Right now I should be at the gym. On the stairmaster. Step after step, sweat dripping down my fair-winter complexion. Instead, I've chosen to eat a vanilla cupcake frosted in baby pink buttercream deliciousness rolled in an outer layer of vibrant, playful sprinkles as I watch the people meander by outside my window. I must say, I am quite content.

I have found that it is so refreshing to live life from my own heartbeat. I believe I spent my first twenty-five years 'shoulding' on myself. Yes, I did say shoulding. Yes, it is an expression that I picked up during my time in counseling. And no, I am not afraid to say that I was, in fact, in counseling. Everybody needs a little help sometimes.

I have always heard that your 20's are a time period of figuring out some things. Getting comfortable in your own skin. For me, this decade has been precisely about that. Life is about balance, and more and more I have found that the 80/20 rule holds true. 80% of the time, it is important to stick to the 'should' of eating a plate of organic veggies and lean meat from Whole Foods and going to by Bikram Yoga class. But, the other 20% of the time I love the freedom to eat decadently and sit on a park bench, bask in the spring sunshine and watch people scurry along and squirrels nurse their winter's stock of nuts. And I love that I finally feel the freedom in that balance instead of punishing myself for never doing enough, for eating too much sugar, for not being so efficient enough today... blah ... blah-blah ... blah-blah.

Today was a damn good day. A bit chilly, but good. Worked a bit, enjoyed time with a dear friend in Brooklyn, went to a Russian nook for some traditional lamb dumplings and homemade puree of carrot-ginger soup. I took time to see today. To look at the architecture of the buildings as I walked. To take joy in children as they skipped down the street. To savor each rainbow-colored sprinkle on that cupcake. Enjoying the small things in life and cherishing them as life's delicacies is a beautiful thing. I might just go and pour myself a glass of wine.

Rocking Into the Sunset

My dear friend just took his own life. Normally this blog is about life experiences, the richness in seeing something new and majestic, but tonight it is about sorrow. The kind of raw emotion and shock that enters the heart after hearing such news. How anyone ever begins to absorb such a sorrow, I do not know.

He was one of the most kind, gentle human beings to grace my life and the lives of so many. The loss of his presence will be a blow to his community and is truly a loss to human-kind.

What saddens me most is the degree of loneliness and sadness that he must have felt to come to such a decision. And of course being human, I wonder how I could have touched him more than I did to make sure he knew that he was loved. That he was important. That his life being in mine meant something to me. But I cannot reflect on those things. They don't bring him back.

My mind keeps seeing a rushing river. I don't know if it is because water brings all things- purity, life, clarity, renewal, movement, change, constancy. I want to feel this rushing river flow over my immense sadness. I want this river to bring him back to me. I want there to be some kind of cleansing answer to why and how something so tragic has happened.

And that might be the hardest thing. Even when you know what the 'why' was and the source for his immense sadness, to actually wrap my mind around a why that could make sense of something so painful is beyond what I am capable of.

And so I picture him on a white rocking chair, with his stylish black glasses, his designer blue jeans and his warm smile that always touched me to the core. He's rocking into his later years, the years that should have been his, with the sun displaying a magnificent canvas behind him. Years that were taken from him by the dense fog of sadness that had to have filled his heart. Years that, in the end, he took from himself in order to get to some place that was brighter than what he could see now.

Marion, I will miss you. I will always hold you in my heart and cherish the time that we did have together. You truly were special. A gift in my life that I will cherish for the rest of my days. And one day, when many seasons have come and faded on, when I hopefully reach a ripe old age with a crown of grey, I will sit on a white rocking chair and think of you, rocking in your memory and for those lost years that you didn't behold. Truly, may your soul rest in peace.