Transitions

This seems to be a big year for transitions. For example, I've moved in with my awesome boyfriend, and I've made some real changes in the way I spend my time and energy. I never thought I'd find a relationship worth compromising for-- but all good relationships require some compromises. I never thought I'd be happy without a solidly planned career path-- but I am. I'm even done with the first fully edited copy of my book. (Of course, it'll go through more changes once I find an agent/publisher.)

And oddly enough, I realized that one of the biggest and toughest transitions we face is death. I know and have known so many amazing and wonderful people-- and in the past few months, so many of them have been faced with the death of a loved one. It's a really tough thing. Hardest for those who remain behind when someone passes on.

Makes me realize that the most important thing we have to give in life is ourselves. Fully, authentically, and gratefully. My loved-ones have always been my number one priority. Today, for instance, I dropped everything and went to visit my wonderful friend Kim, and her 22 year old son, Aaron. He's come home from the hospital for now. And even though the list of things he can't do anymore continues to grow (eat, sleep, swallow, move, talk, breathe...) his sense of humor, and his stubborn determination to LIVE keeps shining through. I am in awe.

It's a difficult thing. Unimaginable. And yet, I know that even good transitions are difficult. Partly because we have to change, but also because we are often afraid of all those unknowns on the other side. I think we Americans are not trained to see change-- to see death-- as anything but fearful and dark. How do we change that? How do we make peace with the irrevocable turning of life's wheel? How do we gain an honest understanding of what we can change, and what we cannot? How do we forgive death from taking away a piece of our hearts?

I don't know. I do know that it has become important to me, over the past few years, to live every day of my life well. To be proud of what I've done, and who I've done it for, and how, and why. Tonight, I'll stay up late working on those emails and work proposals and client projects that I put off today. And it'll be worth it. Because today I spent time with two good friends that I might not get to see tomorrow. I let a mother cry on my shoulder. I participated in the conversation that let her son relive better times, and laugh. Today, I didn't let myself down.

Some people are forced to become adults before they even graduate high school. Some people become adults at thirty, or fifty, or sixty-five. Some people live long lives without ever really having an adult understanding of-- or taking adult responsibility for-- their lives and the lives they touch. It's an interesting transition.

Today, I called my mother on the phone, and cried, so that I could smile and tell funny stories when I visited my friends. And I'll stay up late working so that the other people who are counting on me to do my part and support their professional goals won't be disappointed. I don't want to let them down either.

So here's a toast-- and a hug-- to my friends and family. May you always be one-and-the-same, and may you always know how much I appreciate having you in my life. Whatever else is going on. Because- hey- change is the only constant we have. And the world is such a beautiful place to live.