When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child…
It’s time to put the big boy pants back on. I’ve been struggling, trying to regroup and regain strength with which to face all that is before me. I’m at a loss to articulate the whats and wherefores, and I’ve found myself again in a place of internal anguish and exhaustion. I find myself chasing restoration via a web of neovascularization; thought streams venturing out looking for nourishment in unfriendly terrain.
now I know in part
Where is the healing for the healer? Where is the guidance for the guide? The answers are always given to me, when I pay attention and notice. When I’m weary and depleted I look for ways to replenish and nourish my fragmented self. Sometimes my efforts seem to fail and I’m left feeling even more frustrated and worn. Sometimes, on days like this day, I just have to stop.
…the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof…
When I catch myself feeling frustrated, falling to the base emotions that I so heartfully want to overcome, I struggle through a barrage of thoughts along these lines: Why do I feel this way? What do I need? Why am I thinking ungraciously? Why am I annoyed? What do I expect?
I need to be gracious. I can’t expect anyone to think as I think, see as I see, feel as I feel, understand as I understand, know as I know.
through a glass darkly
Everything is nothing and nothing is everything. What if it’s all the same. Or everything matters and nothing matters. What if that’s all the same. Consider the perfection of a circle. The starting point is the finishing point. They are one and the same. It takes something external to provide a reference of distinction. Time. I can tell the difference between the beginning and the end when I introduce time, but the thing is, that point, zero degrees or 360 degrees, remains that point, whether time is involved or not. Is it a beginning? Is it an end? Maybe it just is.
The reminder that came to me has everything to do with time. Life as I know it is a journey, and we are all at different stages with different capacities, abilities, understandings and levels of knowledge. Our world views are limited by our own exposure and awareness. Ages and stages. There is generally an order of progression with things. I suppose that defines growth. We are all at different ages and stages.
and yet show I unto you a more excellent way
I can’t expect anybody to understand me. I’m not even sure why I have such a hunger. Maybe it’s an existential thing. Maybe if I felt understood, then I would feel valid. As if I need a reason to be. I certainly don’t want my children to think they need a reason to be! So why would I think such a thing for myself?!
At this age and stage, I’m the grownup in the room. I have to put the big boy pants back on. Help is and always has been when and where I need it. Everything that I need is available to me, when I open my eyes. Life is a treasure, full of breathtaking wonder, a dazzling tapestry all around me, for my own joy and rejoicing. I have all the strength and love that I need. I am here. Now.
