There will be a day when I will greet myself arriving at my own door. I will see myself in my own mirror and I will smile at the other’s welcome. I will sit and feast on my own life.

What a life it’s been. Filled with so many adventures and wonderful people. People who have inspired me and challenged me and loved me. This last weekend gave me a taste of what it is to feast on your own life. I was at a celebration of life that drew people from all over the world to honor an extraordinary man. There were so many precious friends together from a lifetime of gathering in Vermont by the lake. Such quality people. It is a testament to this man and the place where we gathered. There were songs and stories and memories shared. The love in the room was palpable.

Let’s consider what the feast of my own life should include- Snapshots of happy times. Songs. There must be songs. Delicious food that brings us together. Babies who make us laugh and dogs that share their quiet devotion.

And love. There must be love. Love of a partner and of family and of girlfriends. Celebrated moments in my work life. The challenging times will be part of the feast, but surely not the main course. And let’s not forget to include triumphant moments of artistic expression. Yup. I love that. My feast will definitely include singers and dancers and poets and writers.

Will we get out the good china for this feast? Or the linen tablecloths? Does anyone get out the good china or linen tablecloths anymore? Will it be a catered affair or will we gather in the kitchen to collectively turn out our feast and share our favorite recipes. Surely, when everyone contributes to the meal, it is a more lively and joyous affair

A feast of my own life, perhaps that is what this blog has become. You’re all invited. With a nod to Derek Walcott’s poem, Love After Love.