From a wonderful poem by Mary Oliver, called The Summer Day:
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
My parents died when I was young. Mom when I was 17, dad when I was 24. Both of lung cancer.
Right now I'm watching several people who are very dear to me battle cancer... you'd think having your parents die would be all it took to permanently, indelibly make you aware of the fleeting preciousness of life. But no, I am prone to forget the big picture, the forest, as I run past trees and climb trees and cut down trees and build things and get lost in my day to day...
What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?