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Time

Lately, I’m feeling the reality of being 70 years old. What I mean is, I am keenly aware that 70 years of my life are behind me. The time I have left is limited. Of course, that is true for everyone, at every moment. I have these words of Jack Kornfield up on my refrigerator: “The trouble is . . . you think you have time.” I’ve had it there for a long time and I don’t think of it as depressing, but just as a reminder that we need to not waste any of that limited time.

So, in me, of late, being 70 manifests as wanting to do so many things! There is just so much out there to learn and do and experience–and less time in which to do it. I find myself signing up for all sorts of art workshops, learning about meditation, planning trips for the future (one more hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and possibly cycling the coast of Taiwan with my son!), and always finding another and another cool thing that I want to do while I still can. I just do not want to miss out.

Here is one of the poems I wrote as a result of a challenge I gave myself back in 2010.

“While I still can” are the meaningful words.

One thing that I love to do is accept and/or impose upon myself challenges. There is something about them that lights a spark in me and I usually go all in on them. I set myself the challenge of writing a poem a day for 49 days in honor of my friend Pam, who died at 49. I ended up doing it for over a year–and I loved the discipline of doing that, along with my daily morning writing. (You can find all of those poems here.) Then there are 14-day meditation challenges from Ten Percent Happier, 21-day challenges from Deepak Chopra, and right now a 30-Day Sketchbook Challenge that I have accepted. This is another one of those online art offerings. There is just so much out there that I want to do and learn and love.

Pages from Day 2 of the 30-Day Sketchbook Challenge

I am only on Day 3 of this Sketchbook Challenge but I have already learned or discovered several pretty great new things and each morning I can’t wait to get going on the next one. How cool is that? Very.

So what’s next? I don’t know but I am ready to find out. Oh, well, I’ve signed up for two free online workshops and I might take a third one using watercolor and gold leaf. Now it seems that everyone who has an art or meditation workshop on offer has my number on Facebook and Instagram, but that’s okay with me. Bring it! I want to know.

Think about it. The world and the internet are full of so many amazing things ready to fill you up! You think you have time? Fill it up with all the things. You think you don’t have time? You do.

“Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.” ― Anthony G. Oettinger

“How did it get so late so soon?”― Dr. Seuss

“Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.” ― Marthe Troly-Curtin

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Poem

I wonder if I will always note that this was the date

upon which my friend died now two years ago.

The moon was full that night, there was no drought

and it was certainly not as hot then as it is now.

I saw a colleague of hers the other day

who said he’d thought of her recently.

I think of her every day,

I said and he looked rather startled.

Words and phrases that passed

from her everyday language into

mine and mine to hers I suppose

that is the biggest culprit as we

were both always keen on words.

I noted in my journal that in those last days

out of her head and drugged with morphine

the word poem popped into her ramblings

again and again not so surprising as she

was likely writing one in her head even then.

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July 25, 2012 Broken Streak!

I am sorry to say that on this day I broke my 589 day streak of writing a poem every single day–not on purpose, not by plan or arrangement or pre-meditation but by sheer forgetfulness.  I am sorry to report it and disappointed that it happened but it’s true.  In my defense I will say that I’ve been working very hard on my book, which will contain poems from 8/27/10-8/27/11.  But still.  No poem was written on July 25 and I’m not going to cheat.  I will continue on, however!