Not so great expectations

At work the other day, we had a service of remembrance for staff with the focus on willingness...to enter the suffering, the event horizon of life and death and how this, personally and professionally, has affected us this past year. The sharing came around to confessions of insecurity about what we had to offer people in the throes of end- of- life situations and also about not knowing the outcome of our interactions.  There also was shared understanding about "being in free fall "  and lowering expectations or seeing  "gifts" in simpler terms.  I've been thinking about this a lot.  There are many things that bestow heartbreaking pleasure: this photo of winter trees and the antiqued nature of the print because that reminds me of lampshades made with prints of scenes from the Adirondacks which remind me of my family who are all passed now; the feel of cold, cold water in my mouth and down my throat when I am thirsty; the smell of spearmint lip balm which reminds me of basketball games in high school(beats me why) and of my father bringing home mints from a vending machine at GE; the full moon shadow cast on the blue snow from the skeleton of a sunflower in our backyard tonight...it seems the world is overflowing with a bounty of meaning and corporeal pleasures.  The trick is to allow ourselves the joy of these things knowing that at any time they may be gone from us or we from them forever.  Reminds me of a line from Mary Oliver's poem In Blackwater Woods, ...To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, let it go.

I also have been thinking a lot about relationship and presence with others. And compassion, and civility, and respect. More on this later as it coalecses.