For years I have studied the 12 Steps (of Alcoholic’s Anonymous) and tried to apply them to my life. I’ve also explored, learned and taught all kinds of information regarding how to live my life well, to get out of myself (while taking care of myself at the same time…) and how to give back to others through various forms of service.
I’m beginning to believe that “transition” is a term for the 00’s. From the time we were all zygotes, we’ve been in transition so it should come as no surprise to us when after twenty-five years or even five years of working in a comfortable job we find ourselves having to look for another one either because our company is laying off or because we are just plain bored.
The longer I live the more I realize that not only is it important for us to learn how to live well, it is also important for us to learn how to die well too. I’ve written before about how a good friend of mine invited our group of friends to know him even more intimately as a friend after he was diagnosed as being HIV Positive. We were all given the privilege of walking through the day to day “being-ness” with our friend Norbert as he faced living and dying. One of the biggest lessons I learned was that each person gets to trip the light fantastic to their death as they see fit. It is not for me or any other loved one of theirs to put our beliefs, inspirations and fear onto them. We can share, of course, our own experience, strength and hope but in the final outcome how a person chooses to live and die is their own personal choice.
Ever since I was a little girl, the Fourth of July has been a very important holiday for our family. I remember when I was about five years old and living in Fukaoka, Japan, our family situated itself right under the huge fireworks display so that it looked like the gleaming bright lights were coming right towards us (I seem to remember some ashes landing on my headband, but I am prone to over dramatization so I’ve never been sure if my memory was accurate!). Historically President Kennedy had been assassinated the previous November, so Itizuki USAF Base where my Dad was stationed seemed to go all out for this particular Fourth of July celebration. Even today both of my parents remember how kind and respectful the Japanese people were to them after our President’s passing. Little did I realize my father’s TTY’s were because of the nearby Vietnam War.
