Rip! Rip! Rip!

What made me suspicious was the ferocity with which I was ripping up a boxful of confidential files. All Saturday afternoon, I ripped, ripped, ripped, not stopping to drink or snack. This in itself was unusual as there is nothing like repetitive tasks to create the excuse for a snack. No, ripping, ripping, ripping, and filling a large black plastic bag with the fruits of my past labours, was occupying all my energy. That is what made me suspicious and made me ask myself the question, why the ferocity?

I was angry; very angry.

Underneath the layer of gratitude for so many things, and the societal expectation that one must age gracefully and with quiet acceptance, there was this disturbing layer of anger.

Friends and family become frail, ill and die.

The mind becomes slower and takes longer to gather itself together.

Eyes become blurred and may miss seeing a friend passing in the street.

Ears no longer hear the sound of birds or the full range of music. They may even miss a child’s whisper.

The telephone may no longer be a friend but becomes a challenge.

Teeth do not chew as well and may even break in biting a nut.

Hair keeps falling out and not growing back.

Tiredness may be relentless.

The list can grow, but underneath this layer of anger is the grief for what has been and that which cannot return.

I tie the now full and heavy black garbage bag ready for the recycling bin. Ah! That feels better, lighter, cleaner, more honest, and more in the ‘now’ moment.

I walk along the hall just in time to catch the first miracle of the day. Can my words even convey the wonder of this sunrise? The sky to the north has a subtle light barely distinguishable from the black sky. The earth is revolving on its axis. The first sun’s rays hit the window to my left and it glows golden in its brightness. The breeze shifts the clouds in ever-changing patterns of pink and soft fuchsia. The water flashes white lights. So steadily the light brightens and the colours weave their magical manoeuvres in sky, park and water. The first bird flies across the park from tree to tree. A lone pine tree stands boldly by the flagpole against a now creamy sky. The grass becomes green as it catches the sun’s strengthening rays. The deep blue of the harbour becomes silver as the sun rises and green lights twinkle along the shore.

All too soon the sun will have finished its early morning dance this winter morning, and will burst onto this stage with full and brilliant triumph. Another day has been born. Here is another chance to glory, ponder, love and laugh, share and delight at this miracle unfolding before me. I can catch its very breath, join the dance of ever-evolving life, breathe the rhythm of each passing day, and delight in its wonders and possibilities.

My heart and my head bow with the words, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you.