With a gust of wind ...

The other day I went out to fill the bird feeders on the back deck and was amazed at the myriad of fragile bird prints in the freshly fallen snow. The tiny tree toed prints criss crossed the deck in around the spilled seed, leaving a tenuous reminder of who had been visiting the feeders.

I tried not to disturb them too much as I filled the feeders with more seed, then I started to examine the intricate little markings and realized the metaphor they offered ...

It has been a little over a year since Mom died ... and it will soon be a year since I lost my brother Scott. Along the way, I said my farewells to three other important friends in my life, and was left reeling at the sorrow and sadness that accompanied these successive passings.

On an intellectual and professional level I am very familiar and well versed in the many paths of grief. This left me in the position of being able to explain and understand what I was experiencing, but being unable to do much about it ... thankfully I have found support from a number of caring and wonderful people who have walked this journey with me as friend and family.

Yet, as I stood and looked at the tiny fragile prints in the newly fallen snow, I realized how much life is like them ...

One good gust of wind and they are altered or changed ... they are a thing of beauty, but their beauty comes from their fragility ... they leave an impression but can be gone in a breath ...

We want to leave an impression with our existence. I have numerous readings that celebrate this and offer suggestions on how to leave positive impressions on the people around us. But the harsh reality of our world says even the most profound impression is fleeting ...

We may touch the lives of our community, our family, our circle of friends ... but in a few years soon that impression, like the tiny foot prints in the snow, is gone and is nothing more than a vague memory ...

Today as I look out on my back deck. now wet and bare from the rain and warm temperatures, I can see that the snow and the prints are long gone ... yet, they remain with me as part of my memory.

Today I am reminded that life is a precious gift that is truly beautiful BECAUSE of its fragility, and because of that, we should and we MUST savour that fragile gift everyday, because we never know when a gust of wind might come and forever alter it ...