During my journey through life, as the years have rolled on, I have discovered that time flies even when you’re not having fun — and suddenly even a watershed event can sneak up on one, as it did me.
During a session with my rolfer and good friend, Pat Martin, we started talking about birthdays.
“Maggie, when is your birthday?”
“June 21st”
“How old will you be?”
“Eighty.”
“Well, how do you feel about that?”
After a few moments, I answered “I don’t feel anything about it. Wow, I truly don’t feel anything about it — no fear, no panic, no exhilaration — absolutely nothing.”
A good friend of mine turned 80 last year and she dreaded it. Stepping into the next decade really frightened her. Perhaps in the future if I’m still around, I will feel as she did, but I doubt it. I have a calmness inside of me, and am at peace with myself and my life.
I did not feel this way in September 2004 when my beloved husband, Hank, died suddenly from a stroke. The one thing that helped me to survive those first horrific days, weeks and months after his death were his words. They are a part of my treasured “Hankisms.” He often said that from his observations of and his experiences in life that he believed the most important thing a person can do in this life is to “just show up.”
There is no way that I can adequately express how much these simple words helped me to face the challenges of each day, when the thing I most wanted to do was to check out. When the alarm went off each morning, I put my two feet on the floor, stood up and said aloud “I’m showing up, Hank, I’m showing up.”
Although I lost the greatest blessing in my life when Hank died, I have continued to experience enormous blessings in the form of extraordinary people who have been here for me and continue to be here for me. People who have offered me their friendship and help during the most difficult challenges I have had to face, and people who have enriched my life by being a part of it.
I find this phenomenon to be inexplicable. My fantasy is that when Hank died, he asked God to send some good people “to help Maggie” and Hank’s soul was so beautiful, that God could not refuse him.
Pat Martin introduced me to Yoga shortly after Hank died by insisting that I go to a weekend Yoga seminar. It was the only time I was in the presence of Yogi Amrit Desai, and he had a powerful impact upon me. He told me that I should not grieve so hard for Hank — that instead I should pray for him to continue his journey.
“I’m too selfish to do that,” I said “I want Hank to wait for me.”
He replied “That’s probably not going to happen. The best thing you can do is to keep growing, and maybe you can catch up with him.” And that has been the driving force of my life ever since — to keep growing.
My youngest daughter, Carla, flew in from Minneapolis to go to that seminar with me. After that, she, I and my other daughter, Nancy, continued to go to weekend Yoga seminars held in Canon City, Lamar and Denver, Colo.
Pat Martin also found me an incredible teacher with a gentle soul. I was her first student and she my one and only Yoga teacher. During our weekly sessions over eight years I was able to integrate Yoga’s wisdom and practices into my life. As an added bonus, my daughter Nancy became a student in that class and an avid Yoga follower. And Carla became a certified Yoga Nidra (very deep meditation) teacher. Because Yoga is something the three of us share, it is even more significant to us.
It has been many years since I have found myself sitting up in bed in the middle of the night and crying out into the darkness — “what happened?” — I find I am more and more able to refrain from asking unanswerable questions, from flirting with what might have been and from quarreling with what is, because no matter where I turn, what is … is.
About three years ago when I was having lunch with a very close friend (another blessing) who is a retired Lutheran minister, we were talking about the concept of what is. Yvonne suddenly said “Maggie, embrace what is.” Words are words are words — but there are some words that just resonate with a person. And those words did with me.
When I say “embrace what is,” I find myself putting my arms in front of me in the form of a circle and then adding the words “and hold it dear.” As I say this, I then bring my hands to my chest. This has become a powerful positive exercise for me.
That is not to say that life is perfect for me now. I would prefer to have Hank as my love and companion rather than Mitzi, my little dog. But I love my little pal and am so grateful for her. I would prefer to wake up in Hank’s arms in the morning rather than find Mitzi sitting on my chest waiting for me to take off my Darth Vader C Pap mask. But I look forward to waking up each morning seeing her beautiful little face.
I would prefer that I gain back the four inches of height that I lost and that I magically have the stamina I had in yesteryear, but I am so grateful for the stamina I still have.
In short, I’m okay with turning 80 in June. I don’t know how I’ll feel next week, next month or next year. But for now my intention is to show up for life each day, embracing what is and holding it dear.
Maggie Mack Hall grew up in the Kansas City Jewish community, the daughter of Minnie and Louis Mack. She is active in the Jewish Community in Colorado Springs.