Past in Present

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how as I get older, I seem to know less. My core of certainties is smaller. I worry about things I didn’t used to even think about, and I am aware of how I have more of my life behind me than before me. How to respond? We can become more cynical and fearful. Or we can gather up the pieces of our lives and seek coherence and momentum. This journal entry from a few months ago represents an effort in that direction.

I find it hard
to hold onto all my selves;
they slip through my fingers —

The confident 7-year-old
who scuffed through autumn leaves with enough enthusiasm
to last vividly in my memory for 44 years
who drew, read, wrote,
spoke her mind —

The 20-year-old
regaining confidence after wrestling bulimia into submission
thriving in a world of ideas and learning
and finding lasting friendships —

The 30-year-old
on top of the world
knowing the struggles and joys of full-time, collegial work
and the love that would grow into marriage —

The 36-year-old
with two young children
a thriving church
valued as an artist
tender-hearted and growing in faith and insight —

The 51-year-old is tentative
isolated (or often thinks so)
unsure of the future, a topic now increasingly on her mind
unsure how to guide two almost-fledglings
aware of all choices made, bridges burned
and the limited options that result —

Is this one life or many I’m living?
It looks more like a constellation than a continuous line
more like a conversation than a single narrative
more like an accumulation of ages
than a maturing soul

We need all our selves
to be a self

…..

Whenever we realize that we have not done that which we have a magnificent opportunity of doing,. . . we are in despair, the despair that comes from actualities, and we cannot lift ourselves out of it. . . Jesus comes with a spiritual initiative against despair and says, “Arise and do the next thing”. . . Never let the sense of failure corrupt your new action.” (Oswald Chambers)