Day 9 :: Play tag in the park and knit without guilt
If I had thirty seven days left in this world, I would spend seven of them in Paris no matter the cost. Taking care of myself, preparing myself. I would wander the streets and museums, filling myself with the love and ancient stability of its stones. I would restore my soul, fill my mind, expand my world. I would do it all for me, to give me the greatest pleasure in my life.
Then I would give it away. I would come home and give all my love to my mother, my brother, my dad. I would call everyone in my family and tell them about all the times they helped make me who I am. I would mail letters across the globe to friends I have not spoken to in years, sharing with them the irrevocable ties they left behind in my heart and how much I cherish our shared memories.
There would be nobody who was not deserving of some wisdom, some truth, some kindness that I could provide however small. I would work harder than I’ve ever worked at my job, making each day the best day for my customers. In my time off I’d run around my glorious, vibrant city and explore it – taking all of my friends with me to play tag in the park, to watch the freeway at night, to sing on street corners. I would throw myself into bed each night, electrified and exhausted.
I would try to find time to finish my knitting projects, and for once not feel guilty if I didn’t.
– Rodger Murry, age 20
I don’t think I can put into words, or at least not adequate ones, how moved I am by what Rodger wrote. The energy and sense of electricity and exhaustion that permeates his words is thrilling. He would work harder than he’s ever worked at his job, making each day the best day for his customers, when many (most?) of us would quit our jobs. He would go to Paris. I want to go suddenly. He would play tag in the park and knit without blame. I feel a sudden urge to run and to take up that scarf I’ve been learning to knit on for the last 23 years.
Rodger, my thanks. A copy of Life is a Verb is running to you, flinging itself into the air to you all the way to Oregon. I hope you find Paris again, soon.
If you’d like to answer the question, "What would I be doing today if I only had 37 days to live?" email your thoughts to me with a photo and your mailing address. If your essay is posted before the official publication date of Life is a Verb (September 2nd–my lord, that’s NEXT WEEK all of a sudden), you’ll receive a signed copy of the book!
