Using Up

     Pretty notecards in my desk drawer, stickers I bought years ago to use for a long-forgotten scrapbook, neat buttons that caught my fancy, my favorite tin of tea, the thick, creamy lotion I harbor, rationing it like World War II women rationed sugar and nylons, gift cards waiting inside my wallet: The idea of owning all these things brings a smile to my face. I like perfection, and the clean notebook pages are just that: unspoiled, whole, perfect.
    But life is not about saving, it's about using. It's easy to think I am being frugal, waiting until a delightfully drizzly day to drink my perfect cup of tea in the fancy teacup waiting gallantly in the cupboard. I imagine all the regrets I will have should I use my elegant stickers now instead of waiting until the moment I have just the right envelope to seal with them. I suppose that someday I will find fabric that matches my long-hoarded buttons as if they had been made for each other.
    Unfortunately, this is not reality. Stickers lose their adhesive, buttons go out of style, lotion separates and becomes runny, stores close. And then what? I am left disappointed, holding useless husks in my hands. 
    I want to get better at using up and using out. I want to take pleasure in my fragrant tea today, whether there be thunderstorm or sun. I want to send notecards today, before my friends and I began to slowly drift apart. I want to make a scrawl inside the cover of my new notebook today, while I am still of sound thought and steady hand. All my waiting and saving will accomplish nothing. It's time to enjoy life in the moment. To use the time I have been given. To use out the little gifts I've been blessed with.
    But most of all I want to use up the chances I have to touch others. The hugs I can give to a hurting friend. The "I love you's" I can send to my parents and siblings. The compliments and encouragements I can dash out in a note, send in a text, or tell someone face to face. I don't know how large my supply. Do I have two more days to give smiles to my children, or two thousand? I don't know, but I want to make sure that when my days are over I have used every smile I can, every touch on the shoulder, every "I'm praying for you," that I possess. 
    I don't want my life to end with me holding on to opportunities I never took. I want to use them up and use them out, pour them liberally, scatter them freely on the people around me. There is more regret in hanging on than in letting go. And today I want to make choices that will help me live in the moment and take advantage of what I have.
    And now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get started. There's some lotion that's been waiting to be used. 

Amelia

In May of 1932, Amelia Earhart made history by flying her red Lockheed Vega from Harbor Grace, Newfoundland, to Londonderry, Northern Ireland. She was the first woman to make the transatlantic flight solo, winning world-wide acclaim for her "courage like a lion." In her own words, she said, "After midnight, the moon set, and I was alone with the stars."

from the Smithsonian Open Access collection

Amelia

A red bird flitting through the clouds

In nineteen-thirty-two,

The harbor slipped away from sight,

She turned into the blue.

In her heart a fire burned,

"Courage!" Roared her soul,

As on into the falling dusk,
On ever toward her goal.

Oh, slowly sinks the sun away,

Flees every golden bar,

Yet still onward, ever on,

Alone, but for the stars.

She flies towards Ireland's shamrock green;

Will failure be her lot?

The moon, now hidden by the clouds, 

Tells its secrets not.

And then in outline coastal gray

She glimpses dew-kissed shore!

At last, tis triumph that she tastes,

The leader gone before!

Oh, slowly sank the sun away,

Fled all golden bars,

Yet she rose with dreams ablaze,

Alone, but for the stars.

Today we face the great unknown;

Have you dreams deep kindled, too?

Will you let them perish all,

Or launch into the blue?

Follow not as passenger

The song your dreams do sing,

But slip into the cockpit

And pursue on hastened wing!

For surely shall sun sink away,

Flee all golden bars;

You will find your dreams someday

Among the shining stars.