Friday, June 26, 2015

Big Yellow Taxi

Forty five years ago, Joni Mitchell wrote a song called Big Yellow Taxi, which had nothing to do with one, except she rode in it from the airport to a hotel, opened up the curtains in her room, saw the beautiful mountains in the distance and the parking lot below her. “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone. They paved Paradise and put up a parking lot.”

As I get older, and am forced to pay more attention to the mortality around me, I decided to reverse the ‘I don’t know what you’ve got portion’ in my life. It started when I lost my father in late January. Actually, it started when he lost his quality of life several years ago after a life threatening bout of double pneumonia after bypass and valve replacement surgery. He never really recovered and his life went to shit in the three or four years after. During those years, I have been to two funerals of friends since junior high, had another friend die in a car accident, have been notified of friends battling cancers of all types from lung and bladder, to ovarian, and bone, have watched friends battle dementia and Alzheimer’s with their parents, watched other friends lose parents, spouses, and children, and then this morning heard from my baby brother that next week he is having that ol’ ‘let’s put a camera in you and take a look at your heart because we think there is blockage’ procedure.  He mentioned that it was in late June when our mom died and also when our dad had his heart surgery that eventually led to his demise.  Scary as all shit.

So, my friends, please join me in ‘noticing what you’ve got.’

Watch the clouds form horsies and ducks in the sky.

Listen to the laughter of unseen children playing somewhere in the neighborhood.

Revel in the love people have for music, even if it’s not your cup of tea.

Worship the printed word in the form of books. 

Pray for others, and for yourself, and for the world to have more love and less hate.

Close your eyes and enjoy the taste of a freshly picked, red, ripe, and juicy tomato.

If it isn’t lightning, stand in the rain and laugh.

Dance in it if you can.

Say hello to a stranger – you might be the smile that lifts their darkness.

Perform many acts of random kindness.

Celebrate friends and family.

Celebrate yourself.

Quit worrying about later, because today is the present, and it is indeed the most wonderful present we can have.