Autumn: Between
Life and Death
If you died tomorrow, would you be able to say, "I lived a full life?"
This is a tough, perhaps even shocking, question, but that's what life coaches do - they are willing to ask the hard questions.
On a recent canoe trip I led for a group of teenagers, we were talking about age. They asked how old I was, and of course, the natural reply to that question is, "How old do you think I am?" They began guessing among themselves and came up with 28. I admit that it was pretty gratifying for an almost-40-year-old to hear that! I gestured upward with my thumb until they hit "39?" at last.
Then one young man grew serious and said, "Jennifer, are you afraid to turn 40?" Without hesitating, I looked him in the eye and said, "No, Josh, I'm not." He asked why, and I said, "Because I really live my life."
A discussion ensued about the fact that sure, there are things left that I want to do, and I certainly want to keep on living as long as I possibly can. Yet, at this point in my life, I feel that I've had richer experiences, adventures and joy than I ever imagined I could or would when I was a lonely, depressed and shy teenager. I have had the privilege of traveling around this whole country and to others, falling in (and out) of love, creating and leaving a legacy through my work, living the dream of being self-employed, and many other experiences that invoke gratitude for the life I've been blessed to leave. Also, the people I love know that I love them, so if I died, there would be no question in their minds.
I was sure of the answer I gave to that young man, and then...I saw a documentary about a couple who have traveled the globe on a sailboat with their children. Suddenly, I was filled with angst. "Why don't I live on a sailboat? How come I haven't gone around the world?" Filled with dread and wondering if I have wasted my life, I suddenly laughed out loud at myself. That was their dream, not mine. And my dreams are not theirs.
When we follow and give voice to what is authentic in our hearts, we can quell the anxiety that can come with turning 40 (or 50, 60 or 70). We can choose to live without unfulfilled dreams, unspoken desires and unfinished business weighing on our souls.
So this question of dying, as the old country song goes, "with a satisfied mind" seems like a good one to explore this time of year, when those of us who live in northern climates literally see death all around us. Leaves have one last burst of glory before drying and falling to the ground. Lush flowers are now dried up stalks, fruit has been harvested or lies rotting in the grass, squirrels are franticly scurrying to bury enough nuts and seeds to get them through the harsh days of famine ahead. The colorful Midwestern autumn landscape will quickly become a study in black, white, and gray.
Change is an inescapable part of life that I strive to accept with grace, and I have varying degrees of success with that goal. All around me at the caf� where I'm sitting to write this morning, I hear comments about today's glorious weather: "Gotta get out today because it won't last!" and "I wish we could have another month of days like this!" It's hard to let go of the beautiful times, of lovely days, of sunshine and warmth. I invite you to consider how the coming seasonal change, wherever you may live, is affecting you.
~ ~ ~
Coaching questions:
In your life, what things do you sense are at the end of a cycle and need to be released?
What dreams do you have that are yet to be fulfilled?
If tomorrow were your last, is there something you'd want or need to say to someone in your life?
Copyright: October, 2008 Jennifer Wilson, New Leaf Coaching and Consulting.