We are Sacred

We tend to work like old cars.
Something goes:
The engine.
The body.
The smooth flow of heat and friction.
The get up and go.
The pedal to the metal, as they say.

But we are not machines or computers.
Even if society tricks us,
Influences us,
Tells us otherwise.
I am more than a widget giving an output.

Yes, we all need each other.
We are an interdependent species,
Even when we can feel the most alone.

Our time is sacred and limited
Precious and potent.
How can society run simpler?
With less friction, tension and pressure
So that what we do matters less than
Who we are and how we show up?

Maybe that is what maturity and the taking time
To ask the questions brings --
Not just rote memory
Of what we have always done --
That feels like important, sacred, fulfilling work
And maybe a focus I can further explore.

Today I am grateful that I’m able to focus
On what matters:
Healing and connection.
Asking.
Being curious.
Showing up authentically.
And maybe illuminating a path for my daughters
So they do not fall into those same 
busy-til-you-break traps.