The Official and Entirely Unverified Guide to Existing Rather Wonderfully
Dear reader,
Before we begin, I should confess something important.
I am not officially licensed by the universe to explain existence.
No committee of stars appointed me.
No council of rabbits stamped my certificate.
The squirrels did not elect me Mayor of Kindness, although there was a rumor one spring that I had their support.
Still, I have lived long enough to misunderstand several important things, survive a few dramatic interpretations, love people badly and then better, lose my way, find tea, and continue.
So here is my entirely unverified guide to existing rather wonderfully.
Use what helps.
Ignore what does not.
And if anything sounds too certain, place it gently near a window and let it get some air.
Be kind most of the time.
Just because the world seems to need it.
But do not confuse kindness with disappearance.
Unless kindness becomes a doormat wearing a name tag.
Then set boundaries.
Even roses have thorns.
Even oceans have shores.
Even the moon knows when to leave the sky.
You may be gentle and still have edges.
You may love the world and still close the door when the weather becomes rude.
Focus on your visions
and on building your little corner of the universe.
A bird builds a nest.
A beaver builds a dam.
A human builds a world.
Not all at once, of course.
Usually one sentence, one room, one decision, one impossible Tuesday at a time.
Flow with the wind.
Talk to trees occasionally.
Listen to rivers.
Wave at clouds.
Don’t lose sight of your goals,
even if you take the scenic route
through three enchanted forests,
a mysterious fog,
and a bakery.
Love, love, love.
As generously as you can.
Not because everyone deserves it.
Because your heart grows stronger when it remembers how.
But love wisely.
Love is not the same as handing strangers the map to every hidden room inside you.
Some rooms need lamps.
Some need locks.
Some need time.
Read books.
Write things.
Create things.
Make beautiful messes.
Help fellow humans whenever you can.
We’re all trying to figure out what this place is.
Some of us are just better at pretending.
Be kind to animals
and to the rest of the living world.
The rabbits were here first.
The trees were here before the rabbits.
The rivers remember even more than the trees, though they are too polite to brag.
Sing whenever the opportunity appears.
Or whenever it doesn’t.
Speak kindly.
Show warmth.
Show affection.
Leave people feeling a little more seen than before.
Help alleviate suffering.
Partake in joy.
Both are sacred professions.
Do not let anyone convince you that only suffering is deep.
Joy has depth too.
So does laughter.
So does a perfectly ordinary afternoon when nothing terrible happens and the light falls kindly across the table.
Keep learning.
From books.
From academia.
From strangers.
From mistakes.
From children.
From old dogs.
From very opinionated crows.
Remain curious, like Bob.
The universe is under no obligation to make sense.
This is irritating.
It is also freeing.
When the universe refuses to explain itself, you are allowed to ask better questions.
And whatever happens,
whether you become recognized,
forgotten,
successful,
confused,
wise,
or accidentally wear two different socks,
don’t ever take yourself too seriously.
The stars are billions of years old.
You are a temporary collection of stardust
trying to remember where you left your car keys.
That’s funny.
And rather wonderful.
Most human dignity, I have found, improves when allowed to laugh at itself.
If you happen to misplace certainty,
check under the sofa cushions.
If you cannot find meaning,
try making some.
Meaning is not always discovered like treasure.
Sometimes it is cooked slowly.
Sometimes it is sewn from scraps.
Sometimes it arrives late, apologizes poorly, and turns out to have been standing behind you for years.
If all else fails,
put on a ridiculous hat,
feed a bird,
watch a sunset,
and continue.
The universe appears to respect persistence.
And good tea.
So begin there.
With kindness.
With curiosity.
With one small act of making.
With one cup of tea if available.
With the strange courage to remain alive inside a world that refuses to become simple.
You do not have to understand everything before you begin.
You are allowed to begin confused.
Most good stories do.
With love,
Missy
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