Autopilot can slip on without a click. Chunneling away at objectives, what matters? Present in all the senses, in the community of self, those around, the balance of action, and cherishing. What opportunities for someday should be now? Time doesn’t appear, it is made out of the same air that gets gulped up by defaults. Deep breath of pause. Little moments of not just seeing the brightness of sun on arm but waiting until the heat of where it is and isn’t can be felt.
And by phone I learned Natalie Gibb-Carsley has died.
She was one of the teachers who saw the human and the writer inside the shelled up young being, and encouraged. We kept in touch, about once a year over the last 25. The diary she gave me at graduation is my special occasions book. Once every year or few I made an addition and hope the book to be a lifer of glimpses, at least to retirement. It’s 23 years in now and not quite halfway.
Natalie was a busy lady but not a rushed one. “Throughout her full life, Natalie’s upbeat nature was to spread happiness, show love and compassion, and give encouragement to and for those who had the good fortune to meet her in daily life.”
Yep. Doing was the thing, and being. She loved words but people and action had her involved.
Many people now say “I don’t do funerals” but hope this one will be an appropriate door crasher. Her husband John and her are like two fingers crossed.