I was incredibly sad last week. The news of Natasha Richardson's tragic accident and subsequent death reminded me how quickly life, as we know it, can be over. She was on vacation taking a ski lesson, fell and hit her head, and two days later she was removed from life support. I had seen a few of her movies and knew she was married to Liam Neeson, but hadn't given any thought to this woman until suddenly she showed up on my computer screen. I've been wondering why her death has affected me as much as it has. Perhaps it's because she died so young. Perhaps it's because she leaves behind two young sons and a husband who adored her. Perhaps it's because it just doesn't seem fair that someone can be here one minute and gone the next. Yeah, that's it.
Last Friday, I attended the memorial of a wonderful woman who owns a vibrant and playful art gallery in the town I live. I knew she'd been ill for a few months, but her death came as a complete surprise to me. I had thought about sending her flowers and a card numerous times, but I just never got around to it. I just never got around to it?!? WHAT THE F*#&%? Why didn't I let her know I was thinking about her? Why didn't I take the time and make it important enough to tell her how happy I was to have met her when I first moved to Cannon Beach? Death and life...they wait for no one. Yeah, that's it.
So I've been wondering for the past few days...how am I to live? Really, truly, deeply...looking at all that is my life and seeing what is important and what is not. Every day it becomes a bit more clear. Last week during one of our classes at the studio, I played a Shawn Colvin song I absolutely love and it inspired me to write this...a simple poem about dance, about life. Despite everything, even here we are. Yeah, that's it.
Even here we are...
Despite what we've been told
And what we've learned
And yes, even what we've experienced
We take all of it into the dance
Our mother's voice
Our teachers' lessons
Our lives lived thus far
Even here we are...
Despite time ticking
And to-do lists lengthening
And yes, even worrying still
We take all of it into the dance
Our joys and sorrow
Our hopes and fears
Our dreams big and small
Even here we are...
Despite what others do
And what happens in the world
And yes, even those things we can't control
We take all of it into the dance
Our pause and ponder
Our heartbeat and heartache
Our bodies and our beliefs
Even here we are
Despite everything else
And no matter what
And yes, even just because
We take all of it
All of it
Into the dance
When a friend of mine committed suicide last summer, I felt similarly. Why didn't I call him more often? Why didn't I go over to play board games? How can he be gone like that... all of a sudden? Every day I try to move past the fear, the busy-ness that prevents me from connecting me with people. And I don't always succeed, but it feels better knowing I have committed an awareness to it. Your poem is beautiful; thank you, as always, for sharing yourself with us. xoxo
Posted by: Sara T | March 24, 2009 at 11:34 AM
What a beautiful poem Lisa. Simple, yet so profound. Thanks for sharing your gifts with all of us. We shall dance :)
Posted by: Dieter Pauwels | October 31, 2009 at 09:08 AM