You are every age you have ever lived. The leaves of years fall and get buried. Years are constructed by the youth of days. Days are the birth of moments. Emotions tattoo moments in your heart. People may come and go in our lives; but the emotions awakened by some never leave. I used to think past hurts or losses as scars. A deep groove embedded in some mysterious invisible place only I could feel. Truth is, anyone near me can feel the energy I am generating. I am not a good energy hider. I am cool with that. It is who I am. Maybe when I crossed the gateway of the fifth decade, I understood it was ridiculous to feel weak for being real. I am only two years in this decade, but the process of understanding is quickening. I sometimes blame hormones; but, that’s my fall back excuse if I get too intense for those around me.
We all have scars. The cuts open us. Make us bleed. Make us stitch it back together. The tapestry of emotions is a tangled web indeed. We think we should hide them in obscure ways in how we cloak ourselves. We exert effort being what we think we should be, we lose sight of our true nature. I am guilty of trying to be too much for who knows what. I am in a constant state of making up for lost time. Ironically, doing what I know now and not in younger years is stealing time from this now. I can’t catch up with myself.
I have the mind of my 25 year old version…just with 27 years of experience in it. It is maddening to be on the outside of the young side of the fence. Technology may be better; but, seasons of insight have no app. So, I write to figure life out. I practice yoga to stay strong at all levels of being. I meditate to stay sane in the madness of this Earth we fight over. I read to learn. I watch comedy to laugh. I remember to cry. I breathe to live and I live to love. Questions outweigh answers. Death is not dreaded; but it’s not exactly on the top of the to do list. And, the “list” is shorter.
We go to others funerals and once we leave, we pick up where we left. We hear about travesties in areas near or far, feel temporary compassion and continue with our day. We grieve those we have loved and lost and stay busy living. I think most of us, if not all, want to be remembered. We can’t obstruct Nature’s well designed intelligence of recycling, we just don’t want to be forgotten.
Guess what…you will. And, you won’t. History will always have icons of the era. Some individuals seem destined to break up the static present to create big cracks for the future to migrate into existence. As for us non-iconoclastic beings, we do etch our presence in time. Actions, good and bad, affect those around you. In turn, their emotions of the moment are influenced. And, then their actions. It is so miniscule on the surface, it isn’t noted.
But there is substance beneath all surfaces. Not possible to dig to the root of anything. Not really. There are too many stems branching from the root. There is no one core root in the deep. We are intertwined energies of past and present. If you listen to the stories of one person’s life, you start to unravel fragments of history and realize how it is a colossal wave of moments. You wouldn’t even exist if it wasn’t for the existence of someone you never met.
As you age, nostalgia dominates novelty. It is being in the middle that messes with you. You have both. The novelty is harder to find and nostalgic events are getting too far from the present. You start to wonder if you are too old to do something. You worry about time. You calculate projected years and age of completion. You calculate monetary investment vs. potential returns. I never did that in the forties and catch myself doing it now. The calendar is a bully I’d like to punch the wind out of. Keep it breathless for a good pause of time. Not forever. Just long enough for me to catch mine. How old is too old to do what you would do if you had youth on your side?
How do you know it is what you really, really want? How do you know you won’t regret trying?
You don’t. I don’t. So the dilemma seems to narrow down to two choices. Calculate the potential losses and don’t do it. Or, be honest with yourself by asking if you’d regret not trying. If the pause is quiet and free of calculation, you have your answer. If you get busy calculating justification for possibly not trying, it’s not your gig.
Do what makes you smile and others smile as a ripple of yours. Be yourself for yourself. Sounds narcissistic, but it’s not. Those with you will be loving you for who you are; not who you think you should be. In turn, you love them for who they are and loving you back. The mutual love fertilizes seeds planted far from sight. A sapling will break ground after you’ve done your work. The history books may not have your name in them, but that’s ok.
You’re busy etching your mark on the Tree of Life and it’s marked with Truth. I always loved climbing and hanging out in trees as a kid. Now I know why…they stood still to give me time to catch my breath.
#aging #insight #dreams