Death is taking people around people dear to me: the violent murder of a co-worker, the suicide of an old friend, the passing of a dad who’s lived a full life, and an uncle released from a long battle with mysterious illness. In contrast, spring is about to pop out in bright green glory.
As life comes to a close, whether peacefully or violently, new life comes.
Transition is life – and the relationship I have with the transitions within and around me is essential to how I make my way through the world.
I pause to notice transitions and the potential within them…
The end – today – of 5 years service to the Alberta Professional Planners Institute
A book substantially complete and the question of where now to put my energy?
A call to serve my city – as a living museum
A call to work with cities as habitats that need the care and attention of their citizens
I pause also to notice that these transitions are cyclical. While the content and questions may change, it is a natural and regular occurrence to feel wobbly and uncertain. It’s not possible to manage change. It is possible to live well with changing.
The poem/blessing I caught during a wonderful ceremony for a friend who marked the transition to the second half of life: her 60th birthday.
Blessing for Katharine
I am always
always good enough
with no end
to the infinity
of nurturing I offer
I deeply treasure
the happiness in peace
open to my true nature
with grace and compassion
I am a fairy godmother
with (my) stories
A couple weeks ago, some colleagues and I gathering to begin a conversation about how we could work together around resilience and adaptability in our lives and communities. Here’s a poem that surfaced as a result of that conversation: