I know I haven't posted for a while. The photo above is the reason why. I'm trying to finish this darling and publish it by the week of November 18th. Yes, this November 18th. ;-)
When it does go live, I promise to broadcast it here, on Facebook, Twitter, G+, Pinterest, GoodReads and to all of you who are signed up for my email updates. (Not signed up yet? Send me an e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org.)
Then, I plan to sell paper copies of Book 1 & Book 2 at Juneau's Public Market! If you're local, I'll be in booth #1 at the JACC. Please come by and let me inscribe a copy of either or both books for you!
Monday, October 7, 2013
Autumn View of Mendenhall Glacier
I had something already written to post here today but when I got on-line this morning, there was sad news awaiting me and my pre-written post went right out the window.
My friend @PSprehe's beloved pibble Azul died this morning. I sent a message of condolence but beyond letting my friend know that I love her and empathize, there's little I, or anyone, can do in the face of death. Death is change and humans are notoriously awkward in the face of change. We are so resistant to change that, given the power to do so, I suspect many of us would choose to halt the seasons in their path.
I like to talk about balance, but even I would be inclined to seek some ideal changelessness rather than embrace the waxing and waning of life. If I could, I would run to my friend and her family and turn back the clocks of their lives until Azul was alive and healthy. I would be like some character in a sci-fi story, changing the details until I could keep Azul from being poisoned. And would any of you blame me? Of course not! We strive to avoid loss and grief.
Yet. Yet, this is part of life. The seasons cycle, change, loss and grief are part of the flow and are unavoidable. I cannot imagine embracing death and loss on this level, but I can imagine a sort of peaceful acceptance of my inability to change this part of reality. I can, barely, grasp at what the wise refer to as Radical Acceptance. How close am I to this peaceful acceptance? Not very close. I prefer to call it RFA. The R stands for Radical and the A stands for Acceptance. The F stands for my grief and my resistance and my outrage that things like this happen.
So, today, I am thinking of Azul who lived a short but happy life filled with love. I am thinking Azul's strong and resilient family who will weather this season of loss. I'll be teary and stomp my feet and I will strive for acceptance. Because I'm still alive. And you're still alive. And all we can do is keep going and make the best of it.
I hope that you'll find ways to make the best of it this week, notice some perfect moments, and practice your own brand of RFA as much as possible. I am sending light and love out to you.