Not ready, yet.
Just the other day, which at this stage of my life can mean a couple of weeks or months ago, I realized that if I were to die in that moment I would not feel ready to take my leave of this life time. This realization arrived with no small surprise. You see, I have spent big chunks of energy, time, effort, imagination and sheer will power to keep my precarious hold to this earthly planet. And that is not to speak of my multiple beseechings of the Universal Powers to alternately open my eyes to the wonders that this life has to offer or to take me quickly to another place, another planet, another existence or to simply extinguish my flickering flame altogether.
I have struggled with varying gradations of melancholy and depression as far back as my memories travel. Years of spiritual searching and guidance seeking ~frequent findings and losings of faith ~ years worth of various therapies ~ book after book of helping myself books read, re-read, dog-eared and cursed ~ multiple sundry eating plans, herbs and self-medication, followed by much self castigation with equal amounts of guilt for being so un-grateful for life’s abundance.
Scattered amongst this turmoiled angst, moments and sometimes days of brightened mood. Such a welcome respite in a choppy sea of deep blue and inky black depths.
A certain thought has cropped up now and then of ‘if I were to die right now… .” The thought followed by a variation of ‘it wouldn’t be a moment too soon’ or ‘a perfect moment to leave.’ So one might understand a bit more the surprise, the startle if you will, that I felt with that initial response of ‘no, I am not ready.’ Not ready to leave this life, my life, in this moment. As I have mulled over this new response, which has remained, I have come to understand that my life feels more precious to me than in the past. Many other realizations have crystallized as the marinading of this new experience continues.
Today though I wanted to share that I am here. I am alive. I am not ready to leave. I am living.