Bawling and Squawling

In my nursing career I have worked the spectrum, spanning all the way from hospice nursing to labor and delivery. Strange, maybe. But, then again, maybe not. Because if you think about it from any spiritual frame of reference, I have simply been at both ends of the soul’s journey – in and out.

Now, I’m no philosopher, but, in doing so, I have noticed a couple of things. First, in birth and death, a family will always show their true colors. For better or worse.

And secondly, we usually come into this life much the way we leave it: either eyes wide open, observant to the world around us, peaceful and calm, or bawling and squawling.

Now, is one way better than the other? I don’t know. You tell me.

I’ve yet to run across the mother who wasn’t worried when her baby didn’t cry at birth.

“Is he okay?” she’ll ask anxiously. “Why isn’t she crying?”

Now unless there’s a problem, we usually have to reassure mom that her baby is just unusually relaxed and Zen. Be happy, we tell them, it could all change the minute you get ‘em home.

As I’ve gone through life, I’ve noticed people continue to follow these same patterns. Calm and cool or uptight and squawking. You know what I’m talking about. Not always, but sometimes, right?

Life is short. This isn’t just a cliché.

Maybe we should all live to color outside the lines once in a while.

Eat that extra chocolate chip cookie.

Go to the movies.

Stay up late.

Get dirty.

Take the kids to the beach.

Don’t beat yourself up.

Write that book. (Finish it, too.)

Tell someone how much they mean to you.

Forgive and forget.

And for goodness sakes, remember that baby, wide-eyed and open to the possibilities of life when she took her first breath, and decide right now – is she going to cry or is she going to simply . . . live?