I don't make New Year's resolutions any more, partly because I'm hopeless at keeping them, but mainly because I've taken my Buddhist vows, which are challenging enough. I have guidelines to keep me busy for the rest of my life. Right speech alone is so very complicated, and you add into the mix: not lying, not killing, not stealing, not misusing sexuality, not becoming intoxicated, not slandering, not being possessive, not harboring ill will, not praising self at the expense of others and not disparaging the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha, and you are one busy gal.
I do try to greet the new year with gratitude, and awe at the continuation of my life. I pause to feel my blessings, which are many. Now today my Aunt Hazel died, at 92, and I'm feeling what a gentle, kind person she was, how sweet to me always, how lucky she and we were that she was on this earth a good long time, and what lovely memories I have of her. When my mother, brother and I would take the train back to Missouri to see her enormous family, I would either stay with my cousin Delores, who was twelve years older and married at 18, and in quick succession had three children. I was a kind of mother's helper and worked on the farm while I visited. But other times I stayed with my Aunt Hazel and Uncle Wyeth, who had four kids, two girls and two boys. I worshiped the girls, slightly older than myself, and everyone made me feel welcome. Is it any wonder that when I grew up I had two boys and two girls, like Delores and Aunt Hazel? I loved the kindness and calm in those families, and wished to model my own on theirs.
Aunt Hazel won't be around for 2015, and none of us knows what fate has in store for us. The lesson: enjoy our precious time here and notice all the blessings we receive. Today, I am grateful for Aunt Hazel in my life.
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