Matthew Lickona 2:43 p.m., June 19
Question: Is it any easier to assist the living to live than the dying to die? There are lots of walking dead out there, lots who have given up the ghost. Yet, who am I to say that their doing so was premature? Who am I to say that their life is worth actively, consciously, if not voraciously living? My valuing someone’s existence seems to have little relevance when they, themselves, don’t.
I've been among the ranks myself on occasion. Just because I chose to pull myself back to the realm of the living doesn't negate similar experiences of others. As always, it's in the journey, not the destination and we all choose our own separate paths and ramble at our own paces. It's as it's meant to be.
Which brings me to more personal questions: What is it I live for? What is it that I would die for? I figure how I choose to face life is as significant as how I choose to face death. And, my choice, for the record, is straight up, with arms and eyes wide open.
As with the blind newly envisioned, its the colors and textures parading before me that grab me more than the content. I lived in sepia for far too long and became literally color deprived. Didn't realize it for a while, didn't know it could happen. But, it did.
Now, life itself seems moot to me aside from the actual verbage. I mean, aside from the fact that it is meant to be actively lived. And in so doing, it's the impressions of it in action, of life lived, that's vivid technicolor. How incredibly lush the vibrancy of life is--I had no idea how important living was to me. I get so hung up on trying to comprehend what it is that I'm seeing, the details--the details--the details--that I plumb miss it all. An art teacher once told me to not draw what it is I knew was there but what it was that I was looking at, what it was that I saw. Made drawing so much easier. A shame it took me so long to apply that same principal to life. But, better late than never.
For those open to lush, open to vibrant, open to BEing alive--for those just opening, there is a garden awaiting, roadside wildflowers, fiesta banners strung in the breeze. Imbibe. Be good to yourself; you are deserving.