Suzanne Maggio

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L is for: Live - with a capital “I”

What would you be doing if you only had 37 days to live? (If you are checking in today expecting to see G, do not fear.  I am well aware that G comes after F.  It’s just that there are some times in life when you have to bust the rules and this is one of them.  Rules you say?  What kind of rules?  Why, the “Toast Rules”*, of course.)

If it is true that we all have a twin somewhere in the world, Patti Digh may be mine.  Patti is the author of Life is a Verb, 37 Days to Wake Up, Be Mindful and Live Intentionally, from skirt! Publishing.

I stumbled upon Patti’s most wonderful blog, “37 days”, almost a year ago.  It felt so familiar, like sliding into a pair of well-worn slippers.  Despite the obvious differences, (she was raised in a small town in North Carolina, is a natural red head and has the most wonderful southern drawl), I felt something strangely familiar in her words as I sat on that first day and read essay after beautiful essay.  It was like looking in the mirror.  I felt like I had known her my entire life.

The title of the blog, “37 days”, was inspired by the death of Patti’s stepfather just 37 days after he was diagnosed with lung cancer.  The time frame became a wake up call for her and she asked herself the question, “What would I be doing if I had 37 days to live.”  After the sudden death of my father last year, I knew that question.  I had asked it myself.

Those of you that know me know that I am prone to just the slightest bit of hero worship.  I admit it.  So in keeping with that tendency, I sent Patti an email.  This complete stranger.  From across the country.  Just something light and breezy.  I didn’t want to appear like a stalker…

“Dear Patti,

I have been meaning to drop you a line for a couple of weeks now.  I have been poking around on your site, reading some of the past blogs, etc.  The more I read, the more I discover so many similarities to my life.  Partly that is due to good writing on your part.  Your stories are so wonderfully written that they evoke wonderful memories for the reader.

Partly it is because I think you and I have been living parallel lives.  I'm not sure how old you are but the similarities of your experiences to mine are uncanny.  From your stories about high school to your English degree and experiences in that regard, to the essay about memory (my mother is struggling with a form of dementia), so many of them bring back many, many memories.”

And a strange thing happened.  She wrote back.

Smile.

Many years ago I was sitting with my siblings on the porch of my parent's home on Sanibel Island, Florida.  We were talking about growing up, laughing about things we had done together and reminiscing about our childhood.  What struck me about that conversation was that we had very different recollections of what had happened.  Despite the fact that we had all been through the same experiences, we interpreted them very differently from one another.  It wasn’t the stories themselves that mattered, it was the meaning that we had ascribed to them that made the difference for each of us.

We each look out into the world through our own unique lens.  We can’t help it.  It’s all we know.  And then we share those experiences.  It’s our way of connecting, of sharing who we are, of becoming a part of something that is bigger than us alone.

The effect of great writing is that it draws the reader in, brings us inside the magnificent canvas of the writer’s work.  Patti’s essays not only draw us in, they awaken a part of our souls that, for many of us, goes unattended as we maneuver through daily life.

The essays in Life is a Verb are about inclusion, integrity and intention.  They are about seeing things from a different point of view, about stretching out to parts unknown.   They are about giving yourself permission to love more.  To say yes when you would otherwise say no.  To be generous, not only to others but to yourself.  To trust yourself, and speak up.  For yourself and for others.

And perhaps my favorite message of all; slow down, because we will not be here forever.  Time moves quickly. Friends move away.  Jobs change. Children grow up.  Parents die.  We are not guaranteed tomorrow.

I spoke to Patti a few weeks ago in preparation for writing this essay.  She was warm and gracious and thoughtful.  I had scribbled some questions on a note pad, wanting to make sure that I asked her the important questions that I imagined I should ask, the questions that I might be expected to ask.  And I asked them.   And she answered them, every single one.

But when I sat back and reflected on that conversation, it was the in-between that mattered most to me.  Not the questions themselves.  It was what I hadn’t asked, what came up anyway.  It was the “yes” and the “I get it” and the “uh huh”.  It was the resonance that I felt, the connection that happened in those moments of conversation.

Life is a Verb is about that connection.  It is a collection of metaphors; stories about experiences that connect us to one another.  Patti wrote it for her daughters, Emma and Tess, to have something to leave behind.  The lessons that she had learned along the way.  It is beautiful, powerful and very thought provoking.

It is a call to arms.

Life is a Verb:  37 Days to Wake Up, Be Mindful, and Live Intentionally.  What would you be doing?

* Patti's essay, "Bust Your Toast Rules", can be found on page 99 of Life is a Verb.