On my death bed
Taking in my last breath
What will I be thankful for
And what will I regret?
Will I think,
“YES! I had a million dollar year!”
“Everyone says they like me… yay!”
“No one said mean things to me.”
“I stayed out of trouble.”
“I worked hard.”
Or will I smile with joy when I remember
That I wrote a saucy memoir
Recorded an album of VERY personal songs
Made a movie about my transformational journey
Helped create a painting masterpiece
Added more Beauty and Inspiration to this planet
(Two of these are works in progress or still gestating…)
That I burned in the fires
Of self doubt
Criticism
Feeling not good enough
Comparison
The terror of being Seen
And that I survived – well, sortof, because none of us survive life, in the end.
Each day that goes by
When I don’t make time for my creations
Is one less chance to leave a legacy that I’m truly proud of.
Is one less moment to touch that ineffable spark of deep fulfillment that only comes
From art.
Each morning I renew my commitment to create, to invite the flow, to open the channel.
Some days go better than others.
But I know, that when I die, these are the days that will flash before my eyes,
The ones that will have me softly smile and think,
“Yes. This was a life well lived.”
