Rapid Fire Learning: 65, I know

Preface: One of the ‘elders’ in our Ho‘ohana Community is an ‘Ike loa learning habit, a month-end practice we named Rapid Fire Learning (RFL). It starts as a private journaling practice, handwritten for self-reflection and can be much shorter, or longer, than what follows: I’ve opted to post an excerpt of my own RFL this month here on the blog to transcribe it more clearly, and to curate the sources of my learning.
Learn more about the process here: Rapid Fire Learning.

**Because some things are meant to be, and LEARNING is one of them.**

RFL for April, 2019

 What have I learned, or re-learned with fresh attention and energies this month?

I’m not a selfie-taking kind of person, but I can be spirit-spilling one, especially when the months draw to a close and my RFL habit kicks in. So here is something I wrote in my journal on my birthday yesterday, the one where you get a zillion reminders in the months leading up to it that you’re eligible for Medicare and need to sign up…

65, I know.

65
That is all.
I prefer to think of 65 as a small number,
Though I understand it’s a lot. It has been a lot.
Yet it’s a lot which is over and done with.
‘Been there, done that’ stuff of all color and stripe,
Chapter read, book closed, book opened, chapter read again,
Because follow through still waited in the wings.
Circumstance,
Happenstance,
Deliberativeness,
Each attempted and accomplished (or just accepted as is.)
Some failures for sure, some tragedy, but I choose to focus;
A lot of small wins have added up in taller posture.
As Dr. K. taught me, “Kū, stand tall.”
Thus I’m looking forward to what’s in front of me, and
I’m jumping into what’s Next, what’s Good, and what’s Alonui, for
Thankfully, those are not done yet. They were never intended to be done.
Some things fall into a category of their own, and we learn to let them.
I jump in wholeheartedly, for sure, mana‘o thriving in lifelong learning.
I’ve six and a half decades of living behind me, and it pushes me, for
It has been a life learned of, leaned into, and decently lived,
Yet it’s certainly not over.
Far from over, more follow through queued in those wings.
One can still be “practical, useful and relevant.”
One can always “be Aloha.”
I know what made me hesitate in my past, and I know what held me back.
I know who said, “no, you can’t” and who said, “yes, of course you can.”
I know what lifted me up and encouraged me. I know why, I know who.
I know what ‘flow’ feels like, and I know when energy drains us and fills us, so
I know how to get it to suit me and serve me, so I may serve others.
I know of the measures and measurements which cause me to celebrate, and
I know of the ones which speak within, loud enough though I alone hear them,
To tell me: “Keep trying. Don’t stop, for this is not what ‘done’ is for you.”
I know when to speak up, converse, listen. I know when to broadcast and publish with intention.
I know to treasure conversation, for I’ve learned life is not a solo proposition.
Talking story helps us to “live out loud” kākou, together, bumps, bruises and all.
I know that ‘done’ looks like, sounds like, and feels like Ho‘ohana, like intention met.
I’m so grateful my life has taught me how to understand that, and look for it.
Whenever I’m not done, I’m still open.
Yet aging makes it so you’re seasoned, and not open and raw.
You’re open and ready, and
You’re certainly a whole lot braver than before.
Koa, courage, is my value 20, and Lokomaika‘i, generosity, is 21.
Life is good, and so are we… we “can always return to that place of our good.”
65 is still a small number, yet it’s abundant.
It holds a lot of good.
We’ve got to keep living that good, as long as we breathe.
So I will.