the one word is sacred.
I'm participating in a 31-day blogging challenge called reverb10, responding to writing prompts that are designed to elicit reflections on 2010, and hopes for 2011. You can find out more about it here.
Today's challenge: One Word. Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?
2010 was sacred. Sacred.
In 2010,
I remembered my Daddy on the 30th anniversary of his death. This is sacred to me.
I went to the last high school band concert of my favorite sousaphonist, my daughter Emma, fulfilling my promise to never miss a concert once she started playing in the band in sixth grade, regardless of my travel schedule. This is sacred to me.
I watched Emma graduate from high school. This is sacred to me.
On hearing of a friend's sudden death just before giving a speech, I gave that speech in tears. This is sacred to me.
I spoke at my friend Celeste's funeral after celestial flags danced. This is sacred to me.
I conducted the wedding of a young couple, Amy and Eric, who had read 37days and Life is a Verb and wanted me to be the one to join them in marriage. This is sacred to me.
I walked straight into deepest illness with my friend Nina, who had Lou Gehrig's disease, dressing her and wiping her and feeding her and interpreting for her and laughing with her when she lost the ability to do all those things except laugh. This is sacred to me.
I then walked straight into death with my beloved Nina because I had promised her I wouldn't let her die alone. This is sacred to me.
I journeyed with my first child, Emma, as she began her life away from home, in college. This is sacred to me.
I journeyed with my youngest daughter, Tess, through not knowing. This is sacred to me.
I heard from people whose lives were changed by my work. This is sacred to me.
I stopped listening to people who were offering me formulas for success, listening instead to my own voice. This is sacred to me.
I watched Emma march before a crowd of 60,000 people as a new member of the North Carolina State University Marching Band. This is sacred to me.
I bore witness to a friend in great need, at a moment when his life changed forever. This is sacred to me.
I met people whose hearts are imprinted on my heart. This is sacred to me.
Two new books of mine were published. This is sacred to me.
Those books contained art from readers from around the globe. This is sacred to me.
I read from my books to people all across the U.S. This is sacred to me.
I did good work in the world with my business partner, David Robinson, as we worked with K-12 teachers across the U.S. This is sacred to me.
I waited for health news and test results and worried. This is sacred to me.
I grew older with John Ptak by my side. And we laughed a lot. This is sacred to me.
I fell in love with my children every day. This is sacred to me.
There is so much more. It is all sacred. All the joy, and all the pain. All the love, and all the fear. All the happy and all the weeping. Sacred to the bone.
To the bone.
In 2011, I want to live into spaciousness. Spacious. Space. Emptiness, open spaces, calendar pages without the word Delta Airlines on them, white empty rooms, ocean breezes space. I want to breathe.
