What older people say

This morning I said goodbye to guests: an older mom and dad and a younger couple, son with wife. It was great to have them, and the goodbyes were fervent and real. The older gentleman looked me in the eye very directly and said,"You must enjoy life, every minute!" I could feel what he was saying. It reminded me of a conversation I had with my high school music teacher in December 1999. Decades after school we had a meal out, a good chat and a few direct questions.

"Any regrets, anything you would have changed in retrospect?" I asked.

He chuckled in his characteristic way. "More kinky sex, and I would like to have travelled more."

I listen to what older people say, because when you finally get the idea that this life isn't forever, what do you say?

Whatever is said, the energy that goes into the communication is unmistakeable: when you're in that place of linking mortality with immortality, you sense spiritual wisdom.

At the end of the day, there isn't much to say, yet presence becomes so significant, contact becomes ultimate, continuity asserts itself as the same, yet different, faith shows up as inevitable.

And love? I have never understood the word, yet I realize that every time you speak from the heart, show consideration and kindness, offer frankness, decide in favour of fruitfulness, you light small fires of intent that glow fiercely and will never go out.