Recently we had a family tragedy. My lovely daughter Em's, husband, Sean died suddenly and unexpectedly. One of the things that comes to mind at times like this is that we need to grab life and live it to the full because it might stop at any minute.
But when I said that to someone, the reply was 'I will live life as fully as I can but it's not always easy'. Which made me think about what does living a life fully mean? Why might it not be easy to do that. I reckon it's about living each moment as it comes. It means that whatever state my life is in at the moment that I live it as fully as I can. I wondered if some people think it means having a life that is action packed, where you live the dream, sipping cocktails on a sun drenched balcony looking out at the sea, or pushing your body to the limit for example by jumping out of an aeroplane. I don't think that's what it is, that can be a form of escaping living life to the full, distracting yourself from what is around you.
In the last years I have had time where my opportunities for doing things has been constrained. My bloke that I'd lived with for close to 40 years was quite frail and anxious in the last few years of his life. That meant we did not travel, except for him to visit his sons in Sydney and even that was quite limited. He did not have a lot of interest in going out much, and our social contact was mainly around visiting people and having them to our place. He wanted nothing more than to be in front of the open fire which he had built, with me around somewhere in the background, playing the occasional game of backgammon and eating his definition of good food. He was 20 years older than me and I was not quite ready for a sedentary life. But that was what it was.
In those years I think he did what he wanted. He lived his life to the full even as he was dying. He appreciated music and food, he loved seeing his family and friends and the garden and the fire going when it was cold. He loved tai chi and, even as his strength was failing, he continued to practise, sometimes sitting down, sometimes just focussing on the breathing.
As did I during those times, it slowed me down, and that gave me time to notice the things that were around me. To get excited about the yellow tailed black cockatoos when they descended on the park down the road, or to bathe in that clear light than can happen after a storm, or to love the smell of the wood piled up for the fire, the sense of satisfaction of lighting the fire in the morning and then watching the flames as they do their dance. I was lucky that I could continue to work, well into my 60s, in a job I loved and that gave me a huge amount of satisfaction, where I loved the challenge of dealing with the people I worked with, even those where I had different opinions about what could be done because then the challenge becomes how to work with that.
There are people who can find that satisfaction even when they are doing the most menial of jobs - who get pride out of cleaning a window for example. I remember hearing about a country, maybe South Korea, where people understand that, no matter how small or difficult the job, what they do is part of a bigger picture and they generally take pride in whatever role they have.
There are many ways to engage in the world around us, via social media, I am a prolific twitterer and get moments of excitement when I achieve a tweet on QandA and particularly love it when friends notice, or when I write to the paper and, even better, when the letter gets published and other people get to share my opinion, or take aim at it, or engage in a discussion about it.
There is a whole life to be lived through reading, whether it's a good crime novel that gets you thinking or a literary marvel where you want to stop and reread a phrase or a sentence that captures a moment or a feeling perfectly for the way you see the world.
After the bloke's death, living life to the full took an a different meaning. Through work I travelled and tried to build in doing something I enjoyed, whether it was going somewhere I could eat good food (in Canberra it was fish and chips by the lake that was my favourite) walking through a bush park, finding a river to swim in or just enjoying a new place. Some of my best moments were when I used my car to do the travelling and took along the dog and we would camp by a river, swimming if it was hot, cooking over the one burner gas plate.
Now I spend time in my garden near the beach, planting, weeding, eating my own produce, marvelling at plants that survive and spread, mourning the ones that don't make it. I have a bowl I brought from my old house which is concrete, filled with water, the bees love it, standing on the sides on a hot day and drinking while others buzz around waiting their turn.
Living life to the full must also mean facing one's emotions, life is not all beer and skittles as they say. When there are moments of melancholy, give in to to it, allow them to wash over you, allow yourself a chance to be maudlin, to cry at sad songs or passages in a book that take you back to a time and place you wish you could relive. When people or things make you angry, own it, do something about it, tell them gently, write letters, take a stand, don't just wish it away. If you see injustice, rage against it.
It's possible to get loaded down by corrupt politicians, by Governments that act against the best interests of the people they are supposed to serve. I am indebted to Sean, Emily's late husband for this quote by George Orwell from Some Thoughts on the Common Toad. He talks about the miracle of spring saying 'the point is that the pleasures of spring are available to everybody, and cost nothing. Even in the most sordid street the coming of spring will register itself by some sign or other, if it is only a brighter blue between the chimney pots or the vivid green of an elder sprouting on a blazed site.'
He finishes by saying 'So long as you are not actually ill, hungry, frightened or immured in a prison or holiday camp, spring is still spring. The atom bombs are piling up in the factories, the police are prowling through the cities, the lies are still streaming from the loudspeakers, but the earth is still going around the sun, and neither the dictators not the bureaucrats, deeply as they disapprove of the process, are able to prevent it.'
As the quote on the order of service for Sean's funeral service says
Magia Bene, ridi spesso, ama malto or Eat well, laugh often, love much... That's living life to the full
