This has been such a hard year, for so many, for so many reasons. It was truly "Annus Horribilis," to quote Queen Elizabeth. For me, it was all about the vulnerability of life and the inevitability of death.

I have had four surgeries this year. My sweetie had two. And my precious Poppy dog was attacked and severely mauled by a German Shepard. We are all perfectly fine now, but it was brought home in no uncertain terms that life can change in a second.

I lost my mentor, my angel father figure, my grad school professor who was the first to encourage me in my weird ways and to see me as being special. He gave me encouragement and approval. and we stayed close for all the 40 some years I knew him.     

This year marked the 20th anniversary of my mother's death and the 10 year anniversary of my son's passing. My long time friend and colleague Margo Adler died. She was three months younger than me. The wonderful thinker, Angeles Arrien died at 71. I used to think that was old.

My forty-year ago lover came suddenly back into my life with startling emails where he revealed a deeply felt regret and repentance for his past misbehavior, and then he up and died before we could arrange a face to face reunion.  

My BFF from junior high and high school also came to me after 50 years of separation. We instantly stepped right back into our sister-like intimacy as though we had never parted. We were elated that we had found each other, only to discover that she was diagnosed with cancer. Which I know she will beat, we will fight it together. But still what a blow. 

Life is not fair, goddam it. And it can be so scary. For all of us. 

The onslaught of terrible events in this century have shaken our naïve American delusion of safety and exemption from many of the harsher realities of life. We have been forced to face the fact that nothing in the world is permanent. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing is ever really completely safe. There is no such thing as security. Anything, anything at all, can happen at any moment. And in that moment, we are changed forever, as well.

How the hell can we cope with such uncertain times? (And all times are uncertain.) Life is a dangerous proposition all the way around. Nobody makes it out alive, after all. We never know, from day to day, from minute to minute, when a crisis will arrive unannounced on our doorstep. We never know when or how we will be called upon to rise to a critical, pivotal occasion. Yet we would like to think that we would be ready, willing and able to handle whatever may come our way. Like any good scout, we aim to be prepared.  

 But being prepared in the way of the Scouts can get you only so far. Sure, it is always a good idea to have a well-stocked pantry, tool box, and first aid kit just in case. It behooves one to be smart, to be alert, aware, vigilant, careful, and calm. But there is simply no way - given the infinite variety of diabolically creative forms that death and destruction can take - to be prepared for any conceivable contingency.

How can we predict and plan for every possible danger when we are confronted with scenarios that no sane person could ever invent? Who, save for Hollywood's most obscene creators, could possibly have conjured the unthinkable traumas that we have been exposed to - if not personally, vicariously, and certainly psychically? Let alone be prepared for them?

Two well-heeled, well-coiffed Japanese tourists in London were struck and killed by lightning striking literally out of the blue as they strolled through Hyde Park. The wire, it would seem, on their under-wire brassieres had attracted the deadly bolt. How could you ever anticipate anything so bizarre?

A while ago, a woman I once knew was walking with her husband and two adolescent sons along Boston harbor on a sunny Sunday afternoon. They were eating ice cream and looking at the ships when a freak wind came along and knocked one of the boys into the water, never to be seen again. Imagine. Life is so fragile that an errant wind could literally blow you away forever.

The only way that we can truly prepare ourselves for unanticipated emergencies is to center ourselves in the present moment. To pay attention. To really be here now. To be ever mindful. If we can focus on the immediate, rather than obsess over the past or try to anticipate the future, we will have the presence of mind to assess each situation as it arises. And we will be able to be flexible in our response to it.

I have a friend who tends toward panic. The woman craves security. Just watching the dizzy ups and downs of my ever-precarious economic circumstances over the years drives her to distraction. When the vagaries of my life make her especially nervous, she will demand, "What, exactly, are you going to do?"

Exactly? "Well, I will do such and such," I brazenly reply, not because I know that to be true, but because I feel compelled to come up with an answer to ease her concern and worry on my behalf. Of course, the correct and honest answer always has to be, "I don't know. It depends. I have to see. I have to think. I have to feel. I have to meditate. I have to consult the cards. I have to do what seems right at the moment." This is not being irresponsible. It is the ultimate response-ability.

Eventually, I came to understand that she was asking the wrong question in the first place. It is not so important to know what we will do in any given situation. The crucial thing is to know that we will be able to do something. To have confidence in our ability to think on our feet. To have faith in our own assessments, instincts, and intuition. To be able to figure it out as we go along. To believe in our good intentions and our courage to do whatever is called for.

I remember so vividly the last cogent conversation that I had with my dear friend Jimmy a few days before he died. I asked him what lessons he had learned having had to deal with a mortal disease for so many years. What did all that pain and suffering come to in a spiritual sense? He replied that he had learned that he had inside of himself the resources that he needed in order to do what he had to do. He had never known that before, he told me.

What a valuable lesson. It seems to me that the secret to successful preparation is mindful presence. To live the life that we have, while we can, as best as we can, and to appreciate every minute of it. L' chaim!, the Yiddish toast, "To life!" recognizes, embraces and salutes life in the full range of its fullness and complexity. It celebrates all of it - the good, the bad, the ugly, the indifferent - for tomorrow we die.

The Queen's Court is a gathering of sovereign women of a certain age - our dear peers - who graciously offer information, guidance, inspiration and encourage- ment to each other.

We Queens know what we know. And we know a great deal. Our experience has made us wise. So, feel free to consult with our cyber council/counsel when you are need of sage advice or wish to explore a particular topic of interest.  

"The relentless bombardment of losses that batters us in every area of our lives in midlife effectively strips us of any unrealistic, immature confidence that we once might have had that we were safe in an unchanging and dependable world. Though we may have been shielded by our youthful sense of indestructibility as well as by our notoriously death-denying culture, we now understand, because we have experienced it, that nothing and no one stays the same forever, that all things must end sometime, that shit does, indeed, happen. We have seen what we have seen.

  PLEASE SHARE YOUR MORTAL THOUGHTS.

Send your ideas, your insights, your songs,  

your prayers, and your experiences  

dealing with death, real or imagined.

We extend hearty congratulations to our multi-talented circle of Sister Queens for their impressive accomplishments and successes.

Please send your good news, achievements, accomplishments, successes and celebrations so that our international circle of sovereign sisters can send you blessings and accolades. 

AUSTRIA  

The Queen will be appearing with   

DISBAND

her feminist performance group,    

November 29 at 1PM

Museum der Moderne in Salzburg 

Mönchsberg 32

5020 Salzburg, Austria

T +43 662 842220-403

Come if you can!