I subscribe to get a “Google Alert” anytime my name appears online. Thankfully, Marcia Reynolds is not that common, at least in Cyberspace.
Last week, hidden in the middle of the links to my blog, to Huffington post feeds, and some Twitter comments was the link to the guest-book honoring the death of Marcia Reynolds.
My body froze, eyes stuck to the page. How weird is that? I clicked on the link, both curious to find out who she was and to make sure it wasn’t me they were eulogizing.
This Marcia Reynolds was 84 when she passed. I let out a breath, probably the first in since I read my name.
Someone wrote, “Marcia was the most beautiful woman and soul I have ever known. I will miss her the rest of my life.”
I clicked through my mental Rolodex to see if there is anyone who would write this about me other than the man I live with. I know people will acknowledge my passion, the effect of my work on others, my commitment to my purpose, and so on. Do people see me beyond my work?
Or a better question is, “Do I allow people to see me beyond my work? Do I take the time to sit with the people who I think are beautiful souls for no other reason than to linger in the luscious moment of connection?”
I wrote myself a note to think about this when I had time.
Two days later, another Marcia Reynolds died. Is this a slap on the side of the head or what? I know the universe doesn’t revolve around me, but I am going to take this as a sign anyway.
I am going to hike with a girlfriend tomorrow morning and hang out in a cabana by a resort pool with another friend in the afternoon. I have deadlines. So what. I am a high-achiever. They will get done. But it has been a while since I looked deeply into the eyes of my beautiful friends.
Maybe next on the list will be to give myself time to know myself better away from my work as well.
How will you live up to what you want people to say about you when you die?