We were sitting in our 60+ sharing circle
on a rainy Tuesday afternoon,
grey and raw and dreary,
listlessly speaking of the need to downsize,
to transition to a more manageable
more audible habitat.
And wanting to hang onto our independent mobility,
our cars, in most middle-class cases,
as long as possible.
We talked about proactive planning optimal independence,
about eventually living with our kids,
about potential confluence and conflicts of interest,
about shrinking invulnerable distances
as far from today,
and the lightning quickness
of crushing physical and/or mental disability,
through accidents and aneurysms,
unfortunate and therefore unplanned critical events.
We did not talk about
how we felt
courageous and curious,
brave and patient,
afraid and angrily impatient
about how mortal life is what continues
only one day
one uncritical moment
at a time
while planning for other loving things
to unfold before
“no longer sacred SomeTime
as far away from secular today
as physically AND mentally,
naturally and spiritually, possible.
I didn’t notice,
we also didn’t look at cooperatively-held
health/wealth outcome optimization.
The hypothetical possibility
is “someday” for mutual pre-planning
and shared mobility challenges,
letting go by first grabbing hold
of shared imaginations.
We didn’t talk
about how much we didn’t like
the empty chairs,
About how we miss, already,
Kate and Betsy
Jan and Sandy
and what they are planning
between shared now
and autonomous then.
Their unique and irreplaceable ways
of planning and not planning
pre-planning and re-planning
life each day
while continuing with other relationships
I didn’t talk
about wanting to live with other singers
and maybe even dancers,
with others deeply committed to compassion
for both mortal humans
and immortal living Earth
inviting habitats of warm
cooperatively-owned and -managed
Especially on raw phrases,
Tuesday jamming afternoons
of richly audible gloom.