Live Well In The Living

 I was pondering the other day the entire concept of living well in this life.

Not in the commercialized, overconsumption that has plagued much of the American landscape for at least the last thirty years. 

No, I mean in the being fully present with oneself, with one's God as they choose to know God, and with one's family.

What would it take to look away from all the shiny trinkets that vye for the attention of generations - and just sit with the mystery of what is unknown?

This is my work.

I live in that space that in the physical body can feel like a fog, can feel like butterflies in the stomach, can feel like time standing still.

The mystery.

The holy space.

The quiet moments.

It is in sitting with those who have tried bargaining, have tried cajoling, have tried shouting, have tried ignoring, have tried all the things, to finally come to the realization that in all things, life, too, must end.

Sudden.

Unexpected.

Or even, the slow agony of one withering away from old age or a disease that ravages this earthly vessel, we all go to it and must go through it.

So, one of the things I always tell folks is to live fully while in the living.

Even if that means this body starts to pose limitations.

If you love art - surround yourself with it.

If you love music - let the melodies play.

If you love books - fill the space with prose.

See, here is the thing, the gift we have been given is on this side. This is the part that God, as I know God, mean when God said "it is good." 

So often, so many are looking beyond the moment that they completely miss the beauty of just being.

I'm getting older.

In a few months, I will be sixty-two times around the sun.

That means I've lived longer than half my father's siblings and longer than my own mother.

I only have so many dances I can dance - even if I can't really do it!

I only have so many sunsets to see.

I only have so many words to write.

For me, I am choosing to live well in this living.

What about you?

©2026. Watching the sunrise in still-cold-Vermont, marveling at it all.