Monthly Archives: February 2013

When my Maker comes…

 

When my Maker comes for me, will I be ready? Will I have “lived juicy” as Sark says? Would I have thrown caution to the wind so many times that it knew my name?

Everyone says, “You only have one life. Make the most of it.” We lip-synch these words and chase them with a tequila. But what does it mean to really live your life to the full?

I think it’s about rolling. I think it means that when tears come, you let them roll and soak in pillows, when laughter tickles your throat you let it roll down to your belly, and when conflict comes you wrestle with it and roll with the punches.

I think it’s about sifting. When you get sand and rocks, sift till you find diamonds and the precious stones. When you’re making roti, sift out the weevils and cook with love and be glad that you started out making maps and learnt to roll spheres. When the words come heavy and harsh, sift through them to find the real meaning, the real intent.

I think it’s about walking. I think it means that you have to walk around in your mind and open the doors to new thoughts. I think it means walking towards fear and away from darkness. I think it means that when thoughts spill over, you have to walk through it and let the ocean lick your feet.

I think it’s about leaning. When the skateboarders fly over railings, lean against the wall and watch. When the sun sets and you are always in awe, lean against the mountain and be glad it is there. When you dance on the stage and all the world is watching, lean on your partner and trust that he will catch your weight. When all the blood has rushed to your head and your feel you might sink to the floor, lean on the strong ones because one day they will lean on you.

Pushing, Pulling, digging, running, flying, working, searching, finding. I think that living life to the full means being full of life. Sometimes full of nonsense, full of mischief, full of eighteen helpings of dessert. I think living life to the full is a verb – it’s an ‘ing’ word.

When my Maker comes, I hope he won’t wear a white suit or arrive in a stretch limo or have greased-back hair and look like an angel. I hope that I too would have been diving and that he would be sitting on the shore waiting. I hope he would smile and say, “Wow girl…you’ve been busy.”

Live Juicy. Rest in Peace.

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