One More Time
It is only by risking ourselves
from one hour to another
that we live at all.
Maybe you know what this feels like:
You stand in the desert, lift your eyes to the horizon.
It would take ages, days, lifetimes it seems
to reach the edge of your vision.
Your chest lifts, soul expands. You and this land,
you conspire together, plan the birth
of wisdom and freedom and joy.
Or you lie on the deck of a ship in the middle of the ocean at night.
The Milky Way hovers, glittering and majestic. But close
like it has something to tell you, a secret,
the mysteries of the universe.
You are on the edge of all you’ve ever wanted.
I want THAT. One more time.
at the edge
of all potential.
And memory floods this moment.
One more time
I want to walk Las Ramblas in Barcelona
where tango and flowers and music embrace me.
I want another meal in the kitchen with the cook
singing spanish love songs to the food,
infusing that food with love–the most nourishing of all.
I want to swim with sea turtles at dawn,
to hear a baby say their first word, watch her take her first step,
even to witness her get her heart broken for the first time, a risk,
a sign that she’s choosing life in all its duende.
I want to dance salsa in the moonlight,
teach a grandchild to knit, ride a bike, bake a pie.
I want to stand on a mountain, the sun on my face,
all the sunlight I can hold. Full. Radiant.
I want to smell jasmine tea.
To notice and photograph the prisms of light
in water droplets I discover on flowers in the garden.
I want to hike through lemon groves along Cinque Terra.
I want to cheer at my child’s graduation. Throw parties.
Write old fashioned hand-penned letters to friends I adore.
I want room service and hot baths and good books with stories I can get lost in.
Most of all, I want to relax
into the pleasure of loving.
Loving like I did as a child.
Without conditions or fear or reservation.
What I wouldn’t give for more fearless love.
Just one more time.
That’s why I won’t let this get me down.
I want the beautiful, painful, risk-taking adventure we’re all on
together too much. Too much. Holding nothing back.
One more time.
I was asked to write this piece for the 2014 Pink Ball in Walla Walla. Huge thanks to Amy Vixie (founder and president of JUGS, a non-profit organization that puts on the annual fundraising event) for the invitation. It was a beautiful event, and I am grateful and honored to have been involved.
I post it today, as the Grand Cardinal Cross graces the skies, as a celebration of life, a reminder to be courageous, to live fully, to love unconditionally. To life.