Lately she’s been saying things like, tell me what life is about. Her voice dreamy and her eyes wistful. She wants to know. She senses that oceans and galaxies lie beyond her grasp. After all, her world only recently turned itself upside down when we moved from our hometown of Seattle. She seems to recognize that life is fragile, that small moments can change everything, that big feelings are fleeting, that nothing lasts forever, and ultimately we will all die.
Her daddy & I try to answer her questions.
I said, love. Life is about loving other people.
He said, but people forget a lot. They think it’s about themselves.
She said, I think it’s about peace. And harmony.
There have been other questions, too.
I told her that I’m not really sure what happens when we die. That nobody really knows. That it’s the greatest mystery of life. Death.
She worries about us dying, about her grandparents dying.
I told her that we will never be separated because we live in one another, we are one another. We are not the same, but we are also not completely separate. We are oneness, embodied.
When I see her smile, I smile.
When I see her hurt, I hurt.
When I see her learn, I learn.
I told her, I think life is about doing what you love. Someday soon, I’ll teach her what it means when something moves you. I want her to recognize what moves her, so she can know her purpose. I want her to know that the universe will guide her by speaking to her heart.
She knows how to ask. My next job is to teach her how to listen.