The Final Gift

And after all, perhaps the final
gift is tenderness.
The faith to love on the
edge of broken parts.
Faith...when all we have is
no clear end,
only the ache of uncertainty.
And still we
reach
towards the jagged edge that's
sure to cut and we bleed
our touch in a tender
offering of
hope,
despair, and maybe something
more we can't name,
but know in silent
moments.
Perhaps the final gift is not
blood...but our
ability to
bleed and bleed
some
more when all we wish for is
dried away and still we
bleed more.
Perhaps the final gift is
this- these blood soaked
tears...when it's all we have to

offer.

~

Letting go - and through this we find the infinite space from which we learn to give. I first and most deeply learned this lesson from my mother in her last years with Alzheimer's. Her final gift was this lesson - there is always more to give. It's our nature. I relearn this lesson every race and through the distance of my very long runs. It's not a lesson of will power and how much my mind and body is able to give. No, the lesson is always on the subject of love. Here it is: can we love ourselves through broken parts? Are we able to love our very brokenness? And more - are we able to find the wholeness of our being through the cracks that ache from this expansion? The lesson is always on the subject of love. The answer is always yes.

~

Perhaps on a race or long run we could ask ourselves this - can I love myself through the very next step?

Peace,

Eric