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It was interesting, I have to tell you,
talking with other people who had no children to leave a legacy for—how
few of them felt they were “entitled” to write an ethical will.
In some cases, there was a bit of embarrassment, the old
who-would-want-to-read-my-thoughts but from a decidedly disenfranchised
place of being either single or childless. I felt it a bit, but
then charged ahead. I’ve decided I’m going to mail it out with my
holiday letter this year, as much because I’m not sending a lot of
presents as I am because, hell, I could be dead next year, and I’d like
to see what my loved ones think and how/if they respond.
TO MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY,
Since I’ve never married or had children, I don’t have a conventional
family system, but I have definitely created my family of choice.
I feel incredibly lucky to include in that my immediate blood family
but I also add into that number the amazing group of people whom I have
been lucky enough to have love me. I often tell people that YOU
are my greatest accomplishment. I have surrounded myself and bonded
with the most exceptional people I have ever met. Being part of a
clan has always been vitally important to me, as many of you who knew
me in my cult years know. I have not always made the wisest
choices, but I believe that with your help I have milked my mistakes
for whatever vast or miniscule lesson I could learn, and then took it
to heart. Through all this, I have tried to give you what I value
most: honesty, trust and unguarded love.
I think the need to learn has always driven me. I have tried to
outgrow myself constantly. My spiritual beliefs might be hard for some
to understand, but I believe that we are part of something
incomprehensibly bigger than ourselves, and that we are responsible to
strive to understand it enough that we are able to give something back
to this life we were blessed with. I have tried to
treat each of you as though you have the potential to outgrow any
obstacles or challenges you were given along the way, and if I have
pushed you a little too hard because of that faith in you, I am
sorry. The older I get, the more precious every moment is to me,
and I want everyone I care about to live as large as they can.
Nature is alive to me, and I trust that it is absolutely complete in
all the metaphoric instructions we need to know to live in our own
divinity--God, hiding in plain sight, surrounding us everyday. I
wish for all of you, with your busy lives, to remember that all it
takes is a good long walk in the woods several times a week to remember
to listen to the smartest parts of yourself, the parts that will keep
you in respectful relationship to your body, your life and the
Universe.
Without kids, I’ve had to be more intentional in where I put my
devotion and focus. My work with hospice has been incredibly
precious to me, as it has given me access to some of the language and
experiences of letting go that we don’t get growing up in this
culture. I am grateful for what I’ve learned, and I hope that I
have made a difference in the lives of the grieving people and
co-workers that I’ve been honored to work with. Having to
remember to get myself out of the way constantly to serve others has
helped me overcome my natural tendency toward self-absorption.
This is partly what I mean by outgrowing myself. I’ve had the
opportunity to be several completely different people in this lifetime
as I’ve shed each set of beliefs and limitations, and I recommend it to
everyone.
At 52, I have to say something to anyone who’s younger than me.
It’s amazing to get older. Not necessarily fun, but
amazing. Each age has its gifts and its limitations and I hope
that every young, middle aged and older person in my life gets the
right kind of support to go for the gusto in their age-appropriate
tasks. For example, I wish I’d finished my education when I was
in my 20’s and didn’t have anything better to do. I did finish
college in my late 40’s but it wasn’t as easy as it would have been if
I’d done it earlier. Your energy changes appropriately in each
age. There’s a lot more of it when you’re younger, but it gets
more sophisticated and interesting when you’re older if you use it for
the right things. I say this because I’ve had a hard time letting go of
the past, generally. Today I’d tell anyone, don’t miss a minute
of your life by trying to hold on to something whose time is
over.
My greatest life-transforming lessons have mostly come from my hardest
times—working with a biochemical disorder, leaving the cult I was in
while dealing with cervical cancer, the break-up of my serious
relationships with lovers and friends. I think that’s true of
everyone—that you dissolve when you are in deep grief and you live in
the possibility of deepening your values and focus. For me, as I
said above, they were lessons in letting go of the past, who I was and
what I wanted, releasing my frantic need to never let go of
anything. This must be one of my greatest lessons to learn in
this lifetime, since I seem to be given opportunities to work with it
almost daily.
Whatever difficulty presents itself to you is a gift, either something
begging to be seen and understood, as Rilke said of our dragons, or a
chance to let go of your personal agenda and align more with What
Is. Same goes for whatever joy presents itself. Try to find your
own way to trust God or the universe so you can get a bigger picture
than your own small agenda. Once you do, you realize how lonely you
were.
Take care of your health. You’re riding around in this incredible
vehicle with operating systems you can’t even begin to grok, and it’s
not only respectful to take care of it, it’s critical if you’re going
to fully enjoy the ride. No matter what state your health is in,
be grateful. There are lessons in illness, and the alternative to
ANY state of health is death, so don’t be complaining unless you’re
ready to get out of the vehicle.
I don’t believe we are meant to understand ourselves, grow, grieve,
change, or fully enjoy life without other sets of eyes that see us
through love. If you can’t let other people in, really in, to
influence you and love you when you’re at your worst, or save you
sometimes, you are going to have a tiny little life and probably be
very angry on your deathbed that you missed something and you don’t
know what it is. I pray for all of you that that
never happens.
I’ve tried to be a good friend to all of you. I’ve tried to bring
something into the world that may not have my name on it when I leave,
but that brought comfort, encouragement and spark into people’s
lives. I meant what I said at the beginning of this letter: you
are my greatest accomplishment and I’m so grateful that you have loved
me.
Blessings, Kim
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