A Life Well Lived

Last night I woke up from a dream.  

 I don’t recall what it was about – but as I got out of bed and headed for the bathroom, I looked up and was blinded by the fullest, brightest moon I have ever seen.  As I stood bedazzled by that moon, a thought came unbidden into my mind.  “Has yours been a life well lived?”  And the answer that popped immediately into my mind was, “No.”

A profound sense of sadness came over me momentarily, and then is my wont, I went back to bed and lay there analyzing it.  I thought about friends, family – even acquaintances and people I don’t know – who have lived, and still live - rich, full lives round and juicy as a midnight moon; those who are so big and bright that nothing contains them; nothing limits them.  They live lives as wide and bright as all of the universes.  And I realized that next to them, my life has been very small.

It’s not that I’ve lived a bad life – not by a long stretch.  In my 5-1/2 decades on this earth, I’ve been a lot of places, done a lot of things, had a lot of jobs, been married and not married, raised two kids, known a lot of people, learned much, laughed plenty, and cried plenty.  I’ve had bright days, dark days, and everything in between.  I’ve lost and found myself. I have had the trappings of success, and I have never given up trying to be a better person, to learn more, do more, be more, and to work harder.  There have been times I’ve danced with trees and faeries – more now that I’m older and have more time – but not enough.

But a life well lived?  No.  For, you see, most of my life has been about the future.  Doing what I had to, being what I needed to be, taking care of business, getting by and getting ahead.   It has been about doing a myriad of busy things, crossing off to do lists, having or trying to build security for myself so that “someday” I could do the things I dream of doing.  My life has always been about “someday” - it has always been about “when x happens” (enough money, the kids are grown, the bills are paid – whatever), I will be able to live my life.

But what if “someday” never comes?  If my life were to end today or tomorrow, how I would regret that my life was not as it could have been; that I had not done and been what I could have, should have, was born to do!   As my soul is leaving my body, I know it would it say, “Why didn’t you let yourself expand and be as full as the moon?  As the stars?  As the universe?  Why didn’t you spend more time talking with trees, or laughing or dancing with faeries?  Why didn’t you love more, live more, and worry less?”  

 

“Because I knew I would do those things someday!” I’d protest.  “I always thought I’d have time!”  “Well, you don’t.” says my departing soul.  Time’s up, the gig’s up, and you’re done.”  “But I need more time – there’s so much I wanted to do. . .”  “Nope.  It’s over.  And in my next incarnation, you – and whoever I’m living in then - won’t remember any of this.  I will of course – souls live forever and don’t forget – so I will move on and try again – and again and again for as many times as it takes to get it right.   Not that you and I did a bad job together - but there’s so much more we could have done together, and been together.  But we didn’t.”  And then it is gone.

And now it’s morning and I wake up again. I suppose I didn’t even realize I was dreaming this conversation with my soul – and as I got up and began to get dressed and prepare for yet another 

day at the office doing work I have become expert at, and am compensated well enough for that I can pay my bills and put money aside for someday, I wonder.  And a small, faraway voice says to me. “Remember.”  

Blessings,

Karen