spiraling into the new year

Today is the Jewish new year: Rosh Hashana, the birthday of the world.

I'm going into the New Year with a broken heart, filled with grief for my friends.

I'm going into the New Year angry that this beautiful fragile world is a world that children die in, every day.

I'm going into the New Year filled with love for my family, my friends and knowing that my grief and my anger are part of the human experience and I actually wouldn't (and couldn't) have it any other way. Because being here means dying.

"Everything that is born, dies" I tell Remy, over and over. I don't think he believes me yet, but belief has nothing to do with death. Death happens no matter what we believe. He is young, though, and hasn't really experienced death yet, only tangentially.

Everything that is born, dies.

We remove ourselves from that truth, I think. We take living in the moment to the extreme and start to live in the promise of future moments, thinking that because it is now, it will always be now.

We don't want to think about our own deaths, or the deaths of those we love.

Everyone you know is going to die. You are going to die. This is an irrefutable fact that some how we manage to think we can change, if only we do the right things. (Exercise, eat right. Pray. Stay out of harm's way.)

I don't know how to truly live as if this moment was my last moment. I keep practicing. I keep reminding myself: "everything that is born, dies" but I don't really know how to carry that forward. I am human. I was raised in a culture that denies death, that doesn't even want to see our deceased without layers and layers of embalming and make up to make them look more than alive. To make them super-alive seeming.

But I know this: I was born. I will die. I do not know when.

And I may not know how to live my life as if each moment were my last, but I do know it is my ongoing choice to live while I am alive. To celebrate each moment of life while I can. Even the shitty, raw moments filled with grief and pain.

Today is the New Year. I am alive. I am filled with love and with grief, with pain and with joy. And so I spiral into the new year on waves of joy and pain, grief and love because that is all I know how to do, living in this all too fragile world.

May you find comfort. May you find peace. May you spiral into life, living in all your moments, painful and joyful as they may be.