Turns Out I Have A Bucket List

I didn't even know I had a bucket list until a recent experience made me realize that I do.  I've always wondered what I might think of my life if I were to receive a diagnosis of serious illness. A routine mammography a few weeks ago yielded results that inspired the radiologist to send me for further testing, specifically a "diagnostic" mammography.  And then I started to think...

Though I kept reminding myself that it was far too soon to worry, my natural anxiety soon took over and I waited a week and a half for the results of the second test in alternating periods of total calm (what will be, will be) and high emotional tension (how to - gulp - say goodbye to my grandchildren).  And my thoughts focused on the many things I had been meaning to do and now might never get to do.

One of these concerned writing; I thought of my unfinished novel, short stories that live only in my head so far, ideas for poems, and even blog posts that in my most anxious moments now took on the status of "never to be written."  Some of my anxious energy even led me to take action on an idea I'd had for a long time; I began inviting other writerly folks I know to consider forming a writers' group with me and it's looking right now like that's going to come together in the next few months.

Another item on my list concerns how I impact this planet. I'd long been meaning to discard some little habits and lifestyle choices in favour of more respectful-to-the-world options. In my time of waiting for results I began using less plastic and paper and choosing reusable containers; I'm trying to avoid styrofoam; I'm informing myself more about sustainability of the earth's resources; and I'm indulging my instinct to grow more of my own food in earth-friendly ways. They are the tiny changes of only one person but this one person is living more in harmony with her spirit's attraction to respecting and preserving the planet.

I've always wanted to take courses to become a certified spiritual director and thinking that I may not get to do that highlighted for me how important that really is to me. I think that God's Holy Spirit is drawing me in that direction for a reason and I need to pay attention. I may not be in a position to make that happen as soon as I'd like but I will "open the possibility to the universe," as a good friend of mine likes to say, and remain open to whatever may come of it.

When thoughts of opportunities to travel come my way I'm realizing that I want to see more of this amazing continent that God placed me on and experience new foods, new vistas, and new cultures. I've been to the ocean and to mountains; now I want to see the desert.  I've seen parts of Europe and I realize I want to see more of that continent as well: Greece, Portugal, England.

More of this sort of thing - seeing the world! This is from last February, when I got to enjoy 

a "funky" restaurant in Corpus Chrisitie, Texas.

I'm happy to report that a few days ago I received the all-clear for the tests that I had. I thought I would be ecstatic with relief but it was a quieter joy accompanied by the desire not to lose what I learned about myself in those anxious days. It was then that I started to realize that I had a bucket list. No, for me it's not about adventuresome challenges like sky-diving or zip-lining; mine is about the person I am and whether or not I'm being true to myself in the way I'm living. I may not achieve everything on my list but I know I will achieve the larger goal they all point to, to live more honestly with integrity and appreciation for life itself.

And so I think I'm different now, not perhaps in ways that you would see when you first meet me, but hopefully in ways that I will recognize and feel at peace about, ways that, hopefully, will show in other ways when you get to know me better.

Passion Sunday

When I was younger, Passion Sunday was always called Palm Sunday.  Processions around the church building with newly blessed palms and haunting melodies sung only in Holy Week are memories that will always be with me.

But, in the past twenty or so years, the Church has renamed this last Sunday before Easter Passion Sunday.  The name always felt strange to me until this morning when our priest preached a powerful sermon on the topic of passion.  He talked of people's passion for life, their reluctance to think of their mortality, that uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing truth that we all have to die someday, some of us sooner than others.

Father Gerry suggested that we would all be wise to meditate on two important things, as recommended centuries ago by the early church fathers: our own death and Jesus' death.  And that's not so unusual; I've heard it preached before, probably many times.  But, for some reason (probably the Holy Spirit), it struck me this morning that Jesus was as reluctant to die as I am and that he was just as afraid as I would be if I had just been told that I have a terrible disease, hours of agonizing suffering ahead of me, and only a short time remaining to live.

I know that I too would pray to be spared this suffering, as Jesus did in the Garden of Gethsemane and I can only hope that I could say sincerely, "But, if it needs to be, thy will be done."  That would be a hard prayer to pray and really mean it.  I've always hoped that my death, hopefully not for a long time yet, will have some meaning to my family and friends.  I'd like to think that I can set a good example of a faith-filled, close-to-Jesus final journey.

But, if even Jesus himself was so afraid to suffer and to die, I can learn some things from that. The first is that it's okay to be afraid; it doesn't mean that I don't have faith.  The second is that I'd better walk as close to God as I can right now, because even Jesus, who was as close to God as a human being can be, still felt the human fear of pain and death.

This is what I will be meditating on in this Holy Week.