What would I choose to do if this was my last day on earth? It’s a fetching question to play with. It’s been floating around in awareness for a couple of days now.

Would I go for a walk in the woods and thrill my senses with nature? Would I take in the scents and sounds, or stick my toes in the creek?

Would I call my son and simply listen to the sound of his voice, the joy in his laughter, the heart in our shared experience? Would I tell him I love him and then ruin his day?

Would I go into my garden and plant something that would outlive me, a flower perhaps or mystery seeds to surprise those who followed? Would I dig deep into the earth filling my nails with dark brown dirt and not care if I had trouble getting back up off my knees?

Would I tell anyone this is it, or would I simply smile and be grateful for the life I have lived, for each savory bit of joy and its bookended pain, the endless mountains of sorrow that felt impossible to climb, the gentle surprise-filled plains of happiness?

Or perhaps I would reflect on the perfection of life, its demanding lessons, the silly futility of resistance, the bliss when at last we surrender, the hard-headed tight-fisted way we try to bury our light, our soft hearts, our compassionate souls and our crazy attempts to hide when all we really want is to be seen for who we really are. Maybe I’d simply dive into the amazing grace of the unfolding now.

I might do something novel, something I’ve always wanted to do … if I could figure out what that was. Life is simple here. There is no need for it to be other than as it is, no wants that present themselves to be attained.

So, likely I’d just sit on the floor and spoon sweet Sophia, staring into her eyes with wonder … and more than a bit of laughter … as she tries time and again to plant her tongue on my face. She and I are here, sharing this moment called now, so what better use of a last day?

To be given a lifetime however long, to materialize out of nothing and appear to be something brings such profound delight that no matter how long I am given it will never cease to fill me with awe.

I need go nowhere. I need do nothing different. There is no desire to check off a bucket list. Life doesn’t end just because I appear to die. Death and sorrow are for those left behind, not for the one who dies. I know this with absolute certainty. We move from adventure to adventure, from lifetime to life without leaving home. There is nowhere to go. There is only here, only now.

So really, it’s more like a last day riding the earth currents and catching the next big wave.

Image: photowall.com

Amaya Gayle is the author of 6 books, the latest Actuality; infinity at play, published by New Saram Press. https://amzn.to/3Rd4CTY