I bet none of my friends knew I died. It happened about two years ago and this imposter has been keeping up appearances – mowing my yard and posting on my blog sporatically to make people think I was doing well.
Well, I wasn’t. I was a total fraud, only pretending to be alive. I’d been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer several years ago and had just been sitting around waiting on my ride to a better place. In truth I had already died and was stinking up the place.
How would you feel if you’d been run over by a two ton truck of guilt, shame and a bad case of PP (people pleasing) to the detriment of what I really wanted to be doing with my pitiful life. And time was running out. Frankly, all that anxiety and chronic regurgitation of old failures and disappointments was probably what made me sick in the first place.
Someone (one of the few I still talk to) woke me up this morning with a bucket of ice water; Or maybe I wet the bed, I’m not sure. But there floating up on the ceiling amongst the collecting dust and cobwebs was God. And listen, He was steamed. He told me to snap out of it because He doesn’t want me up there poisoning His heaven with my turgid attitude and pernicious lifestyle.
He was right. I had just up and quit living and didn’t even like my own company. I buried my cell phone in the bottom of my laundry basket each morning and checked it once a day, rarely returning calls. I moved my favorite chair into a space at the back of my house where no human ever goes and didn’t answer the door while watching season after season of Netflix. May I also say that Netflix is a poor excuse for living?
Margaret Ann called me once a day and yelled “Where are You? I’m worried about you.” I couldn’t rustle up the energy to dial her back.
Then I got this message which mysteriously appeared in an email. It was addressed to the woman “who was the first to get naked, howl at the moon and jump into the sea.” (Something I have never done but always wanted to.)
Wait. There was more. lots more.
This is for the woman who seeks relentless joy; knows how to laugh with their whole soul; the woman who speaks to strangers because she has no fear in her heart. For the woman who drinks coffee at midnight and wine in the morning. and dares you to question it… who doesn’t waste time following society’s pressures to exist behind a white picket fence. The woman who creates wildly, unbalanced, ferociously and in a blur at times. This – is for you.”
I must tell you the above was loosely translated from a poem by Janne Robinson. How it got to me I’ll never know, but I think I saw God give me a little wink. I can’t be sure. I challenge anyone facing health problems to stand tall and begin to do all those things you love to do and were too afraid to do because of your conventional narrow minded attitudes.
After writing the above in my journal, it was still dark enough outside to go out and howl at the moon. I went out on the porch wearing only a towel and squeeked out a wee little breathy howl. It wasn’t much but it was a start.
You go girl, howl all you want to.
Love you cousin, may you continue to howl at the moon…it is full tonight ? Aaaawoooooo!
Very powerful words to be blessed by! Thank you Emily.
Thank you, Emily.
Emily, you and Howlin’ Wolf are my two heroes. I will be howling at the moon at
midnight on New Year’s Eve while going around Cape Horn. But I will not get
naked and jump into sea. It is cold down there and the water is rough.
Yay, you go Morris! You get it much more clearly than I. I will come down for a few days when you get back. Take pictures of the moon howling and reconsider that mdnite swim!
Thank you Emily. My dog will actually howl with me. Not sure she sees the moon.