On the Horizon

My cousin died today.

It was sudden. Her death. Unexpected.

Memories spread out on the horizon. Stretching wide. Layered and woven with colors of grief.

Life is short.

Life Is Very Short.

LIFE IS VERY VERY SHORT.

I don’t mean to shout. Or be redundant. Or even cliche. Or maybe I do.

Death raises questions.

It asks us to reflect. To consider our faith. To think deeply. To acknowledge limitations.

What is most important? How do I want to spend my time? Who do I want to be? What do I value?

It could’ve been me.

It’s a new year. A new decade. My birthday approaches.

I think back on the past year. Regard myself with scrutiny. Ask hard questions.

Am I living bravely or in fear? Am I cultivating my uniqueness? Am I sharing generously? Am I loving others?

I hesitate. Search for answers. Scan the horizon.

What have I forgotten?

In the silence, I recall life-giving words.

Something about showing up. New beginnings. Giving back. Being brave. Acceptance. Perseverance. Joy.

Words I have forgotten.

Words for the living.

I lost my way.

I did.

In many areas, I just gave up. I thought it didn’t matter. I focused on the result, not the journey. I believed my creativity was indulgent at best and silly at it's worst.

We get one life. Only one. One chance to live out our uniqueness.

It is a privilege.

The beautiful thing is that it’s never too late. To live boldly. To try new things. To begin again.

What have you forgotten? How have you lost your way? What are you meant to do?

Please don’t wait until you lose a cousin to remember life-giving words.

Permission is granted. Pursue your joy. Accept your uniqueness.

Keep living.

It’s exactly what JoLynn, my cousin would want you to do.