Just Three Months to Live

Now what? An experiment in Choices (why I'm singing for Water) 🌊

Welcome, friends. I’m so glad you’re here. You and I crave Heart medicine 💗 and Soul guidance to share our brave, authentic selves. Today I invite you to envision an expiration date that’s sooner than you imagined.

Our Dear One’s beloved chair will be empty soon.

So many tears lately. Cracking me open to something new…

A dear friend just got some Hard News. After several heroic, cutting-edge treatments for his rare brain melanoma, he now has just three to six months of living to do.

Oh dear. Welcome, tears.

In light of my friend’s short, liminal lifespan…

I’ve taken on an Experiment. To imagine and potentially behave as if I, too, have just a few precious months left on planet Earth. As a friend of Death, I don’t feel it’s morbid; rather, it’s opening a deeper kinship and solidarity with my friend. And a surprisingly beautiful vision.

If you had just three months to live, what would change?

I’m curious. How would a seriously short lifespan affect you? Your relationships? How would you spend your energy? What choices would rearrange themselves?

I can be a boring hand-wringer when it comes to choices.

I’m blessed in a bazillion ways (passive income; supportive life partner; excellent health; vibrant creative community; time; resources; etc.). Even with privilege, humans are so Creative. We make up new ways to Suffer.

My brain feels like this.

As a multi-passionate maker, with too many pots on the stove, I leave all the burners on, wander off to sing, and come back to a houseful of smoke.

Kelsey Abbott

says it’s part of Human Design as a Manifesting Generator to love lots of things. Still,

When the New Year says, “FOCUS,” the Monkey of Indecision says,

Oh gosh, I’m so torn. Should I pitch that graphic novel to publishers? Or draft the short film version? Finish all those song sketches in that folder? Find a producer and record an album? Or, keep pouring most of my energy into the wacky world of Substack?

This little Monkey and I sat down for an insightful chat last week. A raw, heart-opening, powerful, inner child healing session. Something broke open. What if I don’t have time for all this?

In contrast, my partner chose easily.

He’s devoted to supporting his dying best friend to have the best life, while he can. My sweetheart shows up. For two and a half years since the early days of bloody noses (he’s a good human).

When we heard our friend’s 3-month prognosis, I put on his size 12 Blundstone boots. His brain tumors cause loss of cognition, short-term memory, and impulse control. So damn tough! Still, he keeps his spirits up, and many hands care for him.

In this sacred time, as we tend the life and mourn the gradual loss of our friend, I’ll do a 3-month experiment. I have the luxury of stable health, and Stephen Levine’s book, “A Year to Live: How to Live This Year as If It Were Your Last.”

Now what?

How would you embrace a 3-month deadline? Would you go after a Bucket List? Consider your unlived dreams. Would your trajectory take a big left turn or a subtle shift? Would you dance like no one’s watching?

The Salish Sea, where I sing. Mount Rainier (Tahoma) in the distance.

Yesterday I woke at 4 am awash in more tears. I honked my nose. Then followed my Soul’s whispers, walking my sadness down 108 steps to the dark waters of the Salish Sea, glistening with moonshine.

The urgent ache in my heart wants to be a song.

This HeartSong pushes up into my clenched throat. Tears arose again as I opened my voice to sing in the darkness. It’s wild. Rough. Like waves crashing on the rocks. The song is for Mama Earth, all her waters, and all the creatures who live upon her body. I sing for her often, grateful. Now it carries the urgency of both life and grief.

Our tones celebrate our short, precious time here on planet Earth.

Because though life can feel long (when you’re in line at the credit union), it’s impossibly tiny. My hand-wringing indecision is ridiculous. By the next day, it’s so clear. You simply follow the Love. I adore my family, friends, stories (and cookies). But my Soul comes into her vastness when I’m Singing for Water. More to come, friends.

🎤 Tell me: What if?

• Care to join me in imagining a 3-month expiration date? What priorities would you choose? Would you dare to be more brave? How would you savor the moments? Do you know anyone facing this? I’d love to know your thoughts.

Thank you so much for being here! For stories, spontaneous songs, and short practices to support your brave voice. We love your hearts, comments, and restacks.

As a multi-passionate maker, I’ve faced the Monkeys of Fear in many creative corners. 🙉🙊🙈My work has appeared in Time Magazine, feature films and television, newspapers, and YA fantasy novels, and performances on West Coast stages. HeartsQuest and Holy Sh*T! creative healing decks are used by therapists and People who Poo. 💩 More at HeartsQuest.com. 💗