Beneath and Between -Aging, And Getting To Know The Terrain
Sometimes, it seems , as that furious, confusing pace of growing up, figuring out, learning, accomplishing, measuring ourselves ,becoming independent, and having the morass of our choices and consequence - eventually slows...
As we become somewhat accustomed to the who that we seem to be, the overwhelm of what is our life does seem to slowly settle.
I tell this to adolescents and young adults in my practice all the time. I say 'Your life is moving so fast. It won't always be this way. Soon enough, you'll begin to have a chance to get a sense of who on earth you are. You will begin to develop a lay of the land. Simply try - to keep your eyes and your mind -open.'
Each of us 'gets' to have some experiences, and not others. It's simply how it is.
That means adequate income, or not- at jobs we relish, tolerate, or detest. Living in places that are unsafe and choked with pollution and crime and unkind others , in clean country , or rich city neighborhoods. With open hearted brethren, crabby gossipy people who don't like us on sight, or most often, some complication of in-between.
Sometimes we love-and have groups of friends, or a very good friend for awhile. Sometimes we have lovers and partners- and sometimes for just a while, or much longer.
Sometimes, if we're allowed, we marry. And sometimes we persist in sibling-ship or friendship or lover-ship , past predictable fears and projections and mid-matched fits-
and sometimes one or another of us simply throws in the towel. And heads off , glad and relieved, or regretful and later saddened by a sore lack of foresight or tenacity.
There are connections and communities in some lives. Neighborhoods . Spiritual or religious connections. Offspring , biological or chosen, that either grate or enrich our days, as they grow and extend their own selves , tentatively, out into the world.
At times we know tragedy and great loss , or cleave another to us who lives through or survives through this.
All the while , our difficult, breathlessly precious, unique, mysterious life is progressing, from our very birth , to however far along we live into.
And beneath and between all of this, continually, like a rich life soup, all we are and have been is added each day .
By what we encounter in our dream last night, or what season it is. Or by how our neighbor or horse or beloved or left knee is managing on this day.
One of the discoveries is how, as each year progresses, the agenda or defensive self-portrayal often shimmers and then slowly crumbles at our feet.
Who cares how well we write or draw or understand concepts - we're going to apply for that job or go take that class or engage in that discussion and enjoy it.
Who cares if we have a belly that interferes, but bicycling slowly down the bike path a bit is pure pleasure. If our face wrinkles and the pleasure of giving people whiplash when you walk into a room is long gone.
Because in the midst of these days that linger, nourished by brain supplements and healthy helpings of orange and leafy green vegetables , and cooling our minds out any which way so we can sleep deeply and well... beneath and between all of this passage of time and increasing familiarity of the terrain of our own lives - grows a nascent, imperturbable solidity of sense of self. No more fooling around. No more pretending, posturing, or living 'as if'. Because it simply doesn't make it.
It's not substantive and it's not satisfying and it doesn't help and it creates anxiety and uncertainty, and who on earth wants that crap? It just begins to be clear . Which is one of those pretty cool things about getting older. If we keep our eyes open and our emotions expressed and we truly want to be in the present moment as it actually is.
Nope. Beneath and between all of where we've been and who we morph into, like rings of a tree, gestates this prescient stuff that tenders no nonsense and thrives on what is . Today.
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