Question #13:What is your Go Big wish this very moment?

Go Big or Wonder Why You Didn’t

There is a lot of cliché that accompanies a 50^th year milestone, and for me this marker is a birthday.  To date, the comment I hear most often is that I don’t look “that” old.  And to be honest, it’s not a surprising remark.  When my mom turned 50, I was 25, and from my perspective, that half-century mark didn’t seem so bad or look old to me.  

Since then, I’ve lived a few more years, added color to my landscape and now that I’m here, I agree there needs to be some kind of note-worthy embellishment to decorate this mile marker of life. 

So here is the question I’ll pose… just for fun.  “What would be your ‘Go Big’ wish this very moment?”  

The fun part is the spontaneity of this question.  Don’t take time to think about it, just let the answer tumble out and surprise you. 

Taking cues from childhood imagination, magical things become probable.  A horse and all the tack might be waiting outside for me right now.  I could snap my fingers and be anywhere I wished.  I would see fairies, and have lime green shoes, or I’d have a porch swing where I could practice guitar…(maybe I should wish for a guitar). 

I realize there is possible risk in answering this question where a sense of “rightness” can sneak in and ruin the bounce of the impossible.  I’m sure my Go Big answer of the moment may not be all that impressive to someone else.  But the magic isn’t found in outside approval; it’s from the heart-expanding smile that comes when you allow yourself to think your wish is really going to happen.  That smile is a great way to decorate any moment.

So I took a breath and allowed magic to flow freely, and the spontaneous wish that made me smile, was a private house concert with John Mayer, for family, friends and myself.   

Yeah, that would be a cool 50 year mile marker for me. 

What is your Go Big wish this very moment?

 Let's skip a few rocks, and create some ripples...

~Asia

Question #12: How has your life been well lived?

The Space Between

Self Expression.  It’s a unique variable that makes the world an undeniable kaleidoscope of experience.   Each moment, each day, the life lived between birth and death is an opportunity. 

      I feel rich with my version of life so far.    

View inside a Kaleidoscope by Clemet Bucco-Lechat

Although there are parts I don't treasure, I choose to view the darker experiences as a natural part of a well-lived life.  Like a personal yin yang symbol, life has expertly presented me with experiences that have elicited joy as well as intense agony. And it’s been my opportunity to express myself through it all.  

I’ve been angry, happy, curious, bored, creative, giddy, suspicious, peaceful and frustrated.  I’ve traveled to 5 countries, lived in 7 states, set down roots and been nomadic.  I know the stance of religious zeal, and the walk of humble spiritualism.  I'm jaded and cynical, innocent and trusting.  I've dined with millionaires and drank tea with women in the slums of India.  Sunrises have made me cry, trees have talked to me, and horses have reminded me of lifetimes past.  I've been enveloped by the sacred, and have judged others harshly.  I survived abuse.  I've made love.  I've raised six children and dozens of animals, been married, been divorced, been homeless and lived in privilege.  I know the face of evil and the voice of God….or at least my version of them.  

And as I live my life between, it seems the majority of experiences have surprised me, despite my intentional planning and efforts to control the outcome.  And now, 50 years into it, I wouldn’t change a thing. 

I am a container of stories which spin and combine, reflecting unique versions of me through my individual kaleidoscope of expression. 

How has your life been well lived?

  

Let's skip a few rocks, and create some ripples...

~Asia

Question #11: How do you view mortality?

Clearing the Way

Death.  How do you feel when you read that word?  What emotions surface?  Our relationship with letting go is often cloaked with layers of avoidance, fear, fascination, grief, or relief.  What is it that keeps us from looking forward to the necessary clearings of life? 

Artwork by Liz Birdsong
Midnight Soul Tarot Cards

The natural turn of earth encourages us to drop trepidation through its own daily examples of transition. 

It seems we cling to an unbending version of life in efforts to shield ourselves from change; but it's an exercise in futility.  

Death of any kind is change, opening the way for the new.  And with all certainty, that's exactly what it does. 

A door has been closed, denying access to what used to be.  And with that, mourning merges with The Mystery.  The inhale and exhale of life. 

Looking in the mirror, I see what is, and traces of what was.  I can imagine that which might be, and I can hold the bittersweet emotions that occupy the same space within me.  And as I review my experiences with death, I find I still cling to desires of what was, and wish for it to be in my now.  I feel the places inside of me that feel empty because that door closed, and I still cry.  There are days I don't look forward, I look back and I revisit and remember; and I am kind to myself because I have moved past regrets that may have smeared the memory.   And then I breathe. 

The emotions of grief and joy rise and fall with my perception of death, and mortality, and I play with the balance.  The clearing makes way for my own evolution, and I whisper a blessing for it all.

How do you view mortality?

Join the conversation...add your comments below.

Let's skip a few rocks, and create some ripples...

~Asia

Question #10: How do you greet the unfamiliar?

Welcoming the Wildcard

New life.  These two words can be connected to innumerable events: a sunrise, a new baby, a new idea, plant growth, a shift in perspective, or any other transitional movement away from a previous state.  It encompasses fertilization, incubation, sprouting, emerging, birthing, evolution and much more. 

In many ways, I feel I’ve lived more than one life in this lifetime.  Looking back over the last fifty years I’ve experienced, I can see events that burst onto the calendar as clear markers of change, as well as time spans of subtle shifting. 

I have felt the pains of laboring over new life and the celebration of its arrival.  I embrace the element of mystery and hope that newness brings, and breathe a silent prayer it be my friend.  The new is an unfamiliar guest, a wild card that has no historic baseline.  

So it is mine to embrace as I untether expectations and allow full bloom...

This week's question asks you to consider:

How do you greet the unfamiliar?

Let's skip a few rocks, and create some ripples...

~Asia