Waking up to life

 
 

Mortality has repeatedly nudge me with her presence these last couple of days.

I learnt earlier this week that a very special woman who played a key role when I first moved to London on my own, passed away.

The next day an alert of a mega-quake here in Japan was issued (I must admit I didn’t know such term even existed 😅). This was followed by several close friends of mine reaching out to let me know they are in hospital or going through difficult medical situations.

All of this has led to the existential reckoning only death can provoke.

What happens when we’re reminded of our human fragility? How do we relate to the fact that we were never meant to “survive” this human experience as we know it? (I don’t mean this in a dramatic way, but rather as the most natural thing).

To me, death is the fiercest proponent of life.

It clarifies what’s essential, and urges us to show up for it while we still can. It has the capacity to dissolve petty woes, silly excuses, and indulgent procrastination. It urges us to give it all to the now because, truly really honestly, that’s all we’ve got.

Let us not forget that everything can (and will) change in an ordinary moment. And how we prepare to meet this moment is up to us.

Thus, I’ve found myself filled with the urgent rush of energy that comes from a fast-approaching important deadline (we often forget our lives, as we know them, have got a literal deadline after all). This life-seeking momentum has me sitting down and (finally) taking action on many things that have been on my to-do list for a while, years even. Mary Oliver’s fierce quote “Do you need a prod? Do you need a little darkness to get you going?” has been echoing on my mind.

We often need a stark reminder to wake us back into life, don’t we?

I feel called, more than ever, to prioritise my personal relationships. To consume less and create more. To read the books I’ve had on my wish list for a decade. To share the things that are important to me, even if nobody “gets” them. To really give it all to the now because, truly really honestly, that’s all we’ve got.

I was going to apologise for the depth and intensity… but isn’t that what we’re here for? only me? :)

I have a few invitations for you to explore, if they resonate:

  1. What’s an experience you’ve deeply yearned for but haven’t made space for? Perhaps you have been waiting for the “perfect” time, partner or occasion to finally go for it? (side note: asking myself this very question led me to stop overthinking and book a ticket to Japan last year)

  2. Is there anything important that remains unresolved in your heart? What would support you in bringing acceptance or peace to this part of yourself?

  3. Who needs to know how much they mean to you? Call them or send them a voice note now.

  4. Who do you admire in your life? Why? Tell them.

  5. Is there a story, wisdom, vision or song you have been longing to express? Create (write, dance, paint, cook, sing, etc) that which you feel in your heart is crying to be birthed. Do it for YOU, and if you feel like it, you can share it with others (remember the prize is in the process of tapping into yourself and creating - not the outcome!).

  6. Knowing time is precious and limited, what are you no longer willing to spend it on? (e.g. comparison, judgment, victimhood, perfectionism, blame…)

  7. What does being fully alive mean to you? What gets in the way of you embodying it?


Write it. Say it. Book it. Call them. Take the chance. Do what it takes to find acceptance. Close any unfinished business. Listen to your heart. Be yourself. Don’t fall back asleep.

We won’t be here forever.

Let’s not take anything for granted.

Let’s choose to live fully & courageously so that when the time comes, we can exhale with the whole-hearted satisfaction of knowing we gave this wild, messy, beautiful life our all.

I feel deeply grateful to be in this Earth at the same time as you, beloved.

What are the odds you and I would be alive now AND would also happen to cross paths (!!!), it honestly feels wildly miraculous to me.

Con amor, siempre.

Jeanine xx

PS. I’m dedicating this moment to my beloved Emma. Her kindness, generosity and wisdom live eternally in all those who were fortunate enough to know her. Love, love, love.

 
 
Jeanine Gasser