Life is Precious

Life is precious. Life is precarious.

There is a pair of purple martins nesting in the garage at the bottom of our apartment. They are safe there from wind, rain, cats, raccoons, possums, birds of prey, snakes, and small children. They may not be safe from the land lord.

Once already their nest has been broken in half. The birds rebuilt it. Now the female is sitting on her eggs. Every time I go in the garage I check and say a prayer that no one would have the heart to ruin the nest of a bird who is incubating her eggs. She isn’t in anyone’s way. They aren’t like pigeons, there are not swarms of them. Just two, tiny, beautiful, rare, musical birds – trying to exist in the modern world.

And yet, with one swift sweep of a broom, she, her reason for existence, and her posterity would be lost.

Would they build another nest? Perhaps, next year. Would they find a safer place? In this increasingly unnatural world, unlikely. And so their fate rests upon the kindness of humans.

Just like the rest of us.

How delicate our most valuable feelings are, how easily our best qualities are broken like fine little blue eggs. Trust, faith, courage, pride, kindness, honesty, love – each of these requires a profound degree of vulnerability to show them to the world. How often can we, like tiny birds, show what is hidden under our wings? How often have we watched that newly growing life get crushed by another, for power, or ego, out of pure cruelty, or the all forgiven “just business????

How often do we stand by and allow injustice to tarnish our faith in the world just a little bit more?

How often do we take our own stands, for our personal and professional lives, and die a little inside when our offering is shot out of the sky?

What wellspring do we return to in order to refresh ourselves, renew our convictions, and take up the things we believe in once again?

Do we turn to each other? Do we turn to God? Do we turn inward? And what if that inward well runs dry?

I believe that personhood is a very delicate thing, requiring constant self care and the care of others. In our modern culture we focus so much on our physical health, on what goes into our mouths – but we spend almost no time on what goes into our hearts, our ears, our arms, our minds.

Do we dare touch each other? Did you know that men and women in Europe touch each other over 30 times a day. In America, unless it is our kin, we are lucky to be touched at all in a day. Did you know that a hug could lower your blood pressure?

In Indonesia, men walk down hand in hand down the street. So do women. When is the last time you held your best friend’s hand?

In tribal cultures, if you go off to be alone, people worry that you are ill – unless you have gone on a specific quest or hunt for something.

How often do you feel alone?

How often do you know what you feel?

How many people did you express your love to today?

How many people have you expressed your admiration for?

How many people have you smiled at today?

In all the universe, there is only one of you. You are rarer than any gem, metal, machine, or commodity. You are a work of art.

A work of art that fades if it is never shared.

These are some of the most important rules to the game of being human. The more you share yourself, the more you become. The more you reach out to others, the more a part of the world you are. The more you listen, the more you learn. The more you take a stand for what you believe in, the more others like you will stand beside you. The more others stand beside you, the more the world changes

Or, you can hide. And fade.

You can see it in the faces of old people who are stingy with their belongings, afraid that everyone is going to steal from them, wondering why nobody comes to visit them, wondering why they have ended up alone.

The spirit shrivels long before the body dies.

Or lives long past the body’s life.

What were you born to do? Are you doing it?

The sands in your hour glass will not wait for your excuses.

In all the world there is no one like you, no one who can stand up and take your place, no one who can contribute to the world what you were meant to give.

How will you spend your day today?

Sleepwalking?

Or awake, on your way to a destination that only you can reach, to affect the human race as only you can?

Do you know what you are supposed to do?

Are you searching to find out?

Are you among the living dead? There’s a reason zombies scare the shit out of people. We have so many stories about the living dead, and they all have common themes: Alone, cut off, no soul, no emotion, rejected, and finally, brain dead.

Or are you in purposeful motion?

Even asking the question is the beginning of life.

Ask the question.

Who am I? Why am I here? What am I meant to do?

The more you ask the question, the closer you come to the answer. The more you live the answer, the stronger you become.

I recently left a business group that thought it needed to bring in more “dollars in your pocket!???

I recently joined a much more successful group, where 75% of the speakers donated substantial portions of their time or earnings to non-profit organizations.

Sometimes life is not about business as usual. Sometimes it’s about choosing sides.

Do I really need this abusive job so bad? Have I looked at places where they would treat me better?

Do I really need this cruel spouse? Aren’t their people and programs out there to help me?

Is there an employer out there who will allow me to spend half my time making art and still pay me a living wage plus health insurance?

Is it time I worked for myself?

Am I writing about things I believe in – or am I writing what I think will sell? Do I trust the audience?

How does it make me feel to step over a human being lying in the street? Do I want to do something about it?

There are hundreds and thousands of kids and young adults out there with no guidance. Do I have it in me to be a mentor?

I’ve hungered for children, but have I ever looked at foster care? Is there perhaps a reason why I have had none of my own – because there are already so many here that need to be loved?

There is a way out of the place of your troubles. You will need the help of others. And where you are standing tall and strong, there are others who need you.

There is no limit to the amount of love a human heart can hold.

Reach out both hands, one to give, one to receive.

For in a second, you could be swept away.

And it would be nice to leave something behind you.

A couple of years ago, a very dear friend died very suddenly of a brain aneurysm. The ICU was packed with family and friends from all kinds of inter connecting circles. Everyone knew at least a couple of people, but very few knew everyone. There were people he had shared studio space with, people he had collaborated with, people he had mentored, people he had gotten jobs for when they lost their jobs in the comic book industry, people whose work he had illustrated, people whose work he had published, people he had loved all his life, people he had loved only a few months. But they were all people who loved him – and it was standing room only.

His wake was a celebration of his life. Of everything he gave, of everything he shared, of every joke he ever told, of every creative idea he saw through to completion and all the thousands of ideas he didn’t finish. He was not yet forty, and he had deeply imprinted himself on a generation of artists, as well as leaving a legacy of art behind him.

I have another friend, who is also bi-polar, who holds a wake for himself every year. He invites all the people he loves, and celebrates the fact that he has survived another year. He grieves the life he will not have because of his disability, but goes on to celebrate all of the things he has in his life despite his disability. He is a world class carpenter, who loves nature and can drag 400 pounds of wood out of the forest on his shoulders. He is a superb craftsman, who makes beautiful furniture. He loves beauty in all its forms, takes pleasure in every simple daily things: His shower, his meals, his work, his research and his glass of port at the end of the day. And, to everyone’s complete surprise, including his, he was recently married to a woman who had a bi-polar step mother, and also had, therefore not only experience, but complete compassion for him. Never once did he give up on love, but never once did he take any part of it for granted. He treats her like a treasure, which she is. A treasure which many before him completely overlooked.

The book of Ecclesiastes examines the life of a man who pursues knowledge, wealth, fame, even strict adherence to spiritual law. But then at the end of his life he cries “Vanity of Vanities, all of life is vanity.??? And concludes with “The days of our youth are light and sweet, and woe be unto ye who meet your creator and say ‘I have had not pleasure in them.’???

In other words, we have been given an exquisite banquet of experience to savor. Don’t insult the host. Your life will be exceptional if you live as though you are leaning into the wind of yourself, driven by who you are, to become who you are meant to be. Even a life of savoring existence is rare and precious.

There are 6 trillion ways to live an exceptional life.

Pick one.