Every year, in addition to writing a list of goals and dreams, I also pick a "theme" to help guide me in reaching them. This year's theme came as a gift from Maurice Sendak.A few weeks ago, I came across this very sad interview with Sendak and Terry Gross, illustrated by Christoph Niemann.I won't lie. It depressed me. And watching it again now, I cried even harder than the first two times.I have a confession. Years ago, when I was in college, I heard Maurice Sendak speak at the Boston Public Library. He wasn't very nice. He didn't seem to want to be there and he didn't seem to mind letting the audience know that. He was rude to the people who asked questions. Worse, these were teachers and librarians who were holding his books to their chests with love. Some could barely get out their questions they were so excited to see Sendak in person. He didn't respond in kind. It made me angry. I think, being as young as I was, I didn't try to understand why Sendak behaved the way he did. I only felt offended.For years, whenever people gushed about his books to me, I would secretly think,I am ashamed of those secret thoughts.Later, I would see and hear Sendak in other interviews, and my opinion softened. When he gave his fantastic interview with Stephen Colbert not long ago, I have to admit, I fell in love with him. He had spirit and humility and most important, a lightness I hadn't seen before. A lightness I wish I had myself. He was not the dismissive man I had seen all those years ago. He had changed.Sometimes I think we forget people can do that. Sometimes I think we forgetcan do that.With this in mind, when I heard this latest and maybe last interview, I was a little devastated by the sadness that emanates in his voice. He says he is happy, but he says it through tears. "There's something I'm finding out as I'm aging," he says. "That I am in love with the world."How sad to only find this out so late in life.I think that's where the sorrow in this interview comes from. And why he sounds so desperate when he repeats those last three lines at the end:A desperate plea to anyone who would listen: Don't wait until you are aging to fall in love with the world.I listened. And I heard. And I have been thinking about those words ever since. I have asked myself,AmMy reflections seem to shift throughout the day.It means hug your son even if it makes him flinch.Pick up your cat and blow a raspberry on his belly. (As long as he is the type of cat that purrs when you do this.)Squeeze your husband's shoulder as you scoot past in a crowded kitchen.Bundle up and go outside, no matter how cold it is. And BREATHE. Let the cold air sting your lungs and be glad for it.Stop saying no to fun stuff in order to finish the drudgery. Does anyone really care if the sink is full of dishes a few more hours? I could care less if my friends' houses are messy or clean when I visit, so why do I stress so much about my own? My mother's best friend always says, "Love me, love my mess." Yes.Sing.Simple. Inspiring.And yet…What about the days when you aren't sure you can do it anymore? The days when everything you read or hear feels like it is shoving you deeper into the darkness.What about the days when you feel invisible?Overlooked. Left out.Forgotten.I know those days. I do.Some days, it is so hard to want to live your life.Some days, you hate your life.You want to stay in bed and close your eyes and sleep it all away.And yet, you know, eventually you will have to wake up. You will have to wake up and live.You will have to live your life.On Saturday I went to the memorial service of a friend. I've known her since we first moved here. We shared a love of writing and nature, books and poetry. Sheila also joined my JoNoWriMo Challenges, and was always commenting on my Facebook updates with sweet, short lines, like "Go Jo!" I loved her, even though we weren't especially close. She came to all of my book launches with her husband Joe, and she once came to my house after winning a critique session with me that I auctioned off at the church we both attend. One of the pieces we worked on together was shared at her memorial service. It was about the creative spirit. Sheila wrote:"The creative spirit is in all of us. It is obvious to some, but others never realize the spirit that is in them. It is the core of my being. I have been aware of it for the better part of my life. Only recently did I become aware of it as being a form of spirituality. It is at the heart of who I am. It is what makes me want to get out of bed in the morning. It excites me, drives me, and at times infuriates and overwhelms me. I am so glad to be aware of it, and to use it." – Sheila Drury, December 14, 1956-December 23, 2012I think it was that creative spirit that helped Sheila live her life the way that she did, even when she was suffering from chronic pain.Maybe the most challenging part of embracing this theme is that it requires something very big. And Sheila reminds me, that no matter how difficult, we each have the capacity to do it.In order to live your life, you have to love your life.And sometimes, that is very hard.We live in a culture that bombards us with messages about how much better our livesbe. If only we wore this. Or ate here. Or vacationed there. It is a culture that wants us to feel like we need more than what we have. Always more. As if more is the ticket to good living.It's true a warmer coat might make my life a little better right now--especially when I need to go out to the woodshed in the morning to gather the day's firewood. But I have a sweater I can wear underneath. It's true that new Crate & Barrel place settings would make our table less shabby-looking when guests come over. But I don't think the kind of guests we have over would notice or be all that impressed. They love us, not our silverware. That is not the kind of more any of us need. That kind of more does not help us live our lives better.On Saturday night I received a request to write a "character witness letter" from a young friend who is facing jail time in Texas for her civil disobedience in objection to the Tar Sands project. Hannah and her sister Sophie have chosen to live their lives as activists, working to help educate people about ways we are hurting our planet and each other. They are living their lives on the edge sometimes. Camping out at Occupy Wall Street for weeks and weeks was just a start. They know what they risk each time they stand in protest. Each time they try to stop machines from digging into the earth and poisoning her, and us. When I read Sophie's descriptions of sleeping in the woods, or Hannah's description of snow falling through "lanky pines" I feel deeply how they are living their lives, fully aware of the natural world around them. When they stand outside and breathe, it is with an awareness and gratitude of all they are taking in, and with a deep passion to save it. Hannah ended her letter with a request for us to send her "an extra surge of protection on the 5th of January and the 8th of February: Free of bars, Held in Love, Returning to the wild." I hope you'll join me in doing that.I honor these sisters, for the work they do. I am thankful they are doing it for us. And honestly, there are days when I envy them for following their hearts so completely. For letting go of everything else to focus on something bigger. But then I realize, what keeps me from doing those things are big, too. We all have our own "big things."Livelife.Live your life. Live your life.Yesterday at church the sermon was called, "Active Hope: Awakenings." As our minister, Paul Sawyer, talked about Buddha and Epiphany (we're Unitarians, everything goes together :-) ), I began to think about my own awakenings and moments of clarity. I realized that those opportunities are constant. It's me who doesn't look enough.Terry Pratchett has a wonderful line in the Tiffany Aching series in which he describes opening your eyes, then opening your eyes again. I used to tell my writing students to try this. Open your eyes. Look around you. Now open them again. What do you see that you didn't see before? The details in a person's face become more clear. The trees outside your window feel more alive. The cracks on the sidewalk in front of you that you've stepped over and on a thousand times are suddenly full of life.This is how I want to live my life. Awake and aware and in love.Sendak notes sadly, "I cry a lot because I miss people. I cry a lot because I can't stop them. They leave me. And I love them more."I have done my fair share of crying for friends who have left me recently. They have left me, and, like Sendak, I have loved them more.I don’t want that to happen any more. I want to love my friends more. I want to be aware of who and what they are, not when I'm missing them.And I want to be in love with the world, not when I'm facing leaving it.It means something different to all of us. And yet if all of us try harder to do it with purpose, the world will be even more loveable.I hope you'll join me in trying.~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Monday morning warm-up:How do you want to live your life?