49
2002
Still swinging ...
2002
Still swinging ...
“Annie, what do you mean when you say life is fluid?
“Hmmm. How can I best explain what fluid means to me? Okay Mom, this may do the trick: *Let's say life is divided into four seasons for good reason: Spring is the innocence of childhood; Summer offers a hot, juicy introduction to adulthood; Fall ripens toward maturity; and Winter provides the wisdom to assemble a wealth of knowledge in hopes of seeking the sweet succulence of inner peace—otherwise, we'll grow ever more disgruntled and wizened right to the bitter end...
Next, let’s divide the four seasons of life into twelve months. If each 'month' symbolizes a new decade then as life marches forward in a cyclical fashion, each person can visualize where he or she stands as an infinitesimal part of humanity's bell shaped curve within the grand scheme that Mother Nature has ‘planned’ for planet Earth, as a whole.
"You're planning to live to 120?"
"Tongue in cheek, I reply: Why not? The life expectancy continues to improve, and I take good care of myself." Then, getting serious, again, I go on:
With each passing decade we can ask ourselves this trio of questions: Do I huddle in the middle of the herd, as I did as a child? Or have I grown toward leadership, pulling some portion of that bell shaped curve forward, while simultaneously digging in my heels, afraid to confront deeper truths concerning some other aspect of life? Where am I pulling up the rear, barking at every step I'm forced to take—fearful of the day when those younger or healthier than I am take up the torch, making it impossible to hide from the fact that the grim reaper is about to swoop down and pluck me off of the time line, at last? Here today, gone tomorrow? Impossible! Right? But never-the-less, true.
During each stage of a person's life span, personal growth can be monitored by reflecting back to where we chose to stand on the bell shaped curve, yesterday vs. where we stand, today, knowing that we mature in many aspects of life, but many are not all." As Mom's furrowed brow makes me think that my explanation may be compounding her sense of confusion, I wish for Socrates' brevity and choose a new line of reasoning.
"You're planning to live to 120?"
"Tongue in cheek, I reply: Why not? The life expectancy continues to improve, and I take good care of myself." Then, getting serious, again, I go on:
With each passing decade we can ask ourselves this trio of questions: Do I huddle in the middle of the herd, as I did as a child? Or have I grown toward leadership, pulling some portion of that bell shaped curve forward, while simultaneously digging in my heels, afraid to confront deeper truths concerning some other aspect of life? Where am I pulling up the rear, barking at every step I'm forced to take—fearful of the day when those younger or healthier than I am take up the torch, making it impossible to hide from the fact that the grim reaper is about to swoop down and pluck me off of the time line, at last? Here today, gone tomorrow? Impossible! Right? But never-the-less, true.
During each stage of a person's life span, personal growth can be monitored by reflecting back to where we chose to stand on the bell shaped curve, yesterday vs. where we stand, today, knowing that we mature in many aspects of life, but many are not all." As Mom's furrowed brow makes me think that my explanation may be compounding her sense of confusion, I wish for Socrates' brevity and choose a new line of reasoning.
"Let's say I see my presence as playing a brief but influential role within the capricious nature of humanity as a whole. Let's say I believe humanity will continue to perform miraculous (ridiculous and horrendous) acts, long after I’m gone. Let's say no one wants to grow into a grumpy, wizened, old prune. However, in order to age wisely rather than defensively, I'll need to re-energize my spirit by directing my mind toward listening attentively and objectively whenever the spirit of sages whispers down from on high by sending a messenger, who loves me so deeply as to let me know that, like it or not—I'm in the process of transitioning from autumn into the winter of my life, as we speak. As reality suggests that daunting situations, which I've yet to experience, lay directly ahead, it behooves me to listen closely to that which the voice of love, compassion and reason feels the need to say. Otherwise, my spirit may miss partaking of joyous experiences that inspire my heart to feel younger than springtime as I age.
As experience, beginning at the tender age of three, proves that no stage of life is for sissies, I choose to sidestep denial, whenever possible, in hopes of inspiring myself to grow ever more aware of absorbing insights, which may increase the likelihood of my evolving into a loving, gracious old lady, who feels as eagerly welcomed into the hearts of those I love as was true when I was young and embraced life as naturally as does the hard working oyster, who, upon opening up, holds forth less in the way of irritation, more in the way of pearls …
As experience, beginning at the tender age of three, proves that no stage of life is for sissies, I choose to sidestep denial, whenever possible, in hopes of inspiring myself to grow ever more aware of absorbing insights, which may increase the likelihood of my evolving into a loving, gracious old lady, who feels as eagerly welcomed into the hearts of those I love as was true when I was young and embraced life as naturally as does the hard working oyster, who, upon opening up, holds forth less in the way of irritation, more in the way of pearls …
“I can't picture you as an old lady, Annie. In fact, I can't believe how old I am! I sure don't feel as old as my years or my peers. When I awaken and look into my mirror, I can't believe the person staring back is me." At this, Mom looks too serious to chuckle, so my reaction remains aligned with her wavelength when she says: "Annie, it's not like you to believe that people can't grow old graciously, naturally.”
“I know, Mom. Here's what I'm trying to say: Even the most gracious person amongst us butts up against lessons, left unlearned—especially when it comes to accepting losses too painful to bear. So many of the elderly end up feeling depressed."
"Yes, that's true. Remember how depressed Dad was when he couldn't achieve physical challenges that had set him apart from other men his age?"
"I do. Once, while he and I were discussing his despondency, I told Dad that I'm determined to age like you. I remember Dad offering me a small, sad smile, while replying, "I hope you can, Annie. Your mother is quite a woman."
"I miss him so much; it hurts, every day."
"Me, too, Mom."
"If I'd known what had caused his depression, I would have reacted differently, more patiently. If I had it to do all over again, not a day would go by without letting him know how much I loved him. And still do."
"I know what you mean, Mom. It's natural to feel remorseful over what's past, but it's impossible to relive the past. The best we can do is to transfer insights gained, while we reflect over yesterday's experience, to ease our way through challenging situations, which, at first glance, may feel difficult to understand, today."
"Annie, I thought you were going to explain what you meant by life is fluid."
"Whoops, sorry, Mom. Once we dive in deep, it's easy to get sidetracked. So where was I? Oh yes. *I was using the time line to track where we stand as forerunners or laggers while traditional values are undergoing change so slowly as to be almost imperceptible unless we grow ever more consciously aware, day by day.
Let's place the timeline aside for a moment and picture ourselves standing on a moving walkway, like at the airport, but with this difference: Whereas the moving walkway at the airport moves straight ahead toward a predetermined destination, the moving walkway I'm conjuring up inside my mind offers us a fork in the road. Whereas one choice leads toward same-old-same-old, the other beckons us to take a courageous step toward the great unknown. Unfortunately, the older we get, the less adventuresome, more fearful of change, we tend to become.
Let's place the timeline aside for a moment and picture ourselves standing on a moving walkway, like at the airport, but with this difference: Whereas the moving walkway at the airport moves straight ahead toward a predetermined destination, the moving walkway I'm conjuring up inside my mind offers us a fork in the road. Whereas one choice leads toward same-old-same-old, the other beckons us to take a courageous step toward the great unknown. Unfortunately, the older we get, the less adventuresome, more fearful of change, we tend to become.
*Each time we approach another fork in the road where yesterday’s values clash with views, which have grown more expansive, today, it makes sense to remind ourselves of this fact: Regardless of which fork you and I choose, we all continue to move forward into foreign territory, as one stage of life transitions toward the next.
Reality suggests that the moving walkway does not stop or back up for anyone. And here's why that's true: Each next stage of life offers experiences, which startle and unbalance our sense of self worth in ways that we'd not expect. And we can't prepare for that which comes as a total surprise.
Though we think ourselves wise old owls, it's natural for feathers to get ruffled when traditional mindsets begin to unravel. As this proves true of every generation, common sense suggests questing toward insight by way of absorbing knowledge as well as seeking guidance, no matter how many birthdays I've accrued.
What I won't do as I age is get stuck, spinning my wheels in that rut where same-old-same-old makes me feel safe when in truth, digging my heels into the past is bound to stalemate whatever unexpected change comes next, suggesting that if I feel left alone with my fears, there'll be no one to blame for my loneliness but me. With that insight in mind, deeper truth suggests that as long as I'm alive, it's my choice to remain in denial on a treadmill that's inclined to go nowhere fast or switch to the walkway, whereby the wise muster the courage and humility to ask for direction in hopes of engaging with the clarity to embrace reality, rather than choosing to follow in the footsteps of the elderly, whose trains of thought are fueled by negative focus, which makes them feel like gerbils, running on wheels in cages, as life and the busy lives of loved ones pass them by.
When my marriage hung onto the edge of cliff by a thread, plunging my spirit into a dark hole of despair, I decided no more cages for the little song bird I prefer to be. In the aftermath of that deeply pensive time, my spirit chose to face life's unexpected travails with growth in self awareness, and thus do I approach life's unexpected challenges as passionately and wholeheartedly as I'm known to emote enthusiastic expressions of joy. And with this attitude of fluidity, concerning my acceptance of life's highs and lows do I hope to mindfully inspire the song bird within me to soar high in the sky, flying free as the breeze, as I age.
Each time we approach a new stage of life, the wisest of souls becomes a beginner, all over again. Each time confusion hits and I lose sight of clarity, concerning vital aspects of my well being, you'll see me seek astute guidance in hopes of expanding my horizons rather than seeking assurance from clones, whose views prove to be as limited as my own.
Reality suggests that the moving walkway does not stop or back up for anyone. And here's why that's true: Each next stage of life offers experiences, which startle and unbalance our sense of self worth in ways that we'd not expect. And we can't prepare for that which comes as a total surprise.
Though we think ourselves wise old owls, it's natural for feathers to get ruffled when traditional mindsets begin to unravel. As this proves true of every generation, common sense suggests questing toward insight by way of absorbing knowledge as well as seeking guidance, no matter how many birthdays I've accrued.
What I won't do as I age is get stuck, spinning my wheels in that rut where same-old-same-old makes me feel safe when in truth, digging my heels into the past is bound to stalemate whatever unexpected change comes next, suggesting that if I feel left alone with my fears, there'll be no one to blame for my loneliness but me. With that insight in mind, deeper truth suggests that as long as I'm alive, it's my choice to remain in denial on a treadmill that's inclined to go nowhere fast or switch to the walkway, whereby the wise muster the courage and humility to ask for direction in hopes of engaging with the clarity to embrace reality, rather than choosing to follow in the footsteps of the elderly, whose trains of thought are fueled by negative focus, which makes them feel like gerbils, running on wheels in cages, as life and the busy lives of loved ones pass them by.
When my marriage hung onto the edge of cliff by a thread, plunging my spirit into a dark hole of despair, I decided no more cages for the little song bird I prefer to be. In the aftermath of that deeply pensive time, my spirit chose to face life's unexpected travails with growth in self awareness, and thus do I approach life's unexpected challenges as passionately and wholeheartedly as I'm known to emote enthusiastic expressions of joy. And with this attitude of fluidity, concerning my acceptance of life's highs and lows do I hope to mindfully inspire the song bird within me to soar high in the sky, flying free as the breeze, as I age.
Each time we approach a new stage of life, the wisest of souls becomes a beginner, all over again. Each time confusion hits and I lose sight of clarity, concerning vital aspects of my well being, you'll see me seek astute guidance in hopes of expanding my horizons rather than seeking assurance from clones, whose views prove to be as limited as my own.
One day, while visualizing myself, standing on the time line, I saw myself as an infinitesimal speck within the greater scope of the animal kingdom. From that day on, I viewed planet Earth as my forest or jungle, suggestive of the fact that as I age—quiet as a mouse, griping silently to myself, will not suit me, at all.
With insight into my brief existence on the historical time line, I work to differentiate between those who seek to understand their self defeating traits vs. those who, fearing reality, duck and run for cover while pointing fingers of blame, elsewhere, when a messenger delivering deeper truth knocks at their walls of denial. As kill the messenger is classic to human nature, I seek wisdom into when to speak up and when to hold my tongue.
Having come to accept the harsh fact that life is short, meaning that my body will provide my spirit with transport for a limited time, I've chosen to wrap my attitude around this reality: *At some point in time, every person, alive (including me), stumbles into accidents, prejudice, bias, misunderstandings, misperceptions, insensitivities, and unfair misjudgments, as well as countless forms of blind miscarriages of justice which may include: bullying, undiagnosed illnesses, chronic injuries, causing pain to devil us, daily, thus interfering with heartfelt plans—and then there's the toughest plague of all—that of a loved one's sudden, untimely, inexplicable death.
We hear that attitude is everything, because attitude filters into our decision-making process. And knowing that all of those issues comprise the downside of every person’s life—I’ve decided to consciously oil the fluid nature of my mind in hopes of going with the flow when fate forces me to accept changes that go against my will.
By way of embracing an openminded attitude, I grow ever more attentive to the powers of intuition signaling me to readjustment my focus from negative to positive, and thus do the combined forces of intuition and knowledge redirect my mind from that which feels disheartening toward opening my heart to embrace each amazing surprise that life offers up, thus rejuvenating my own sense of joy." (Whew! I thought that train of thought might never see the light at the end of such a lengthy tunnel!!)
At this, Mom, looking skeptical, says: Annie, that's easier said than done.
While nodding in agreement, I expound a bit more: "Wouldn't you agree that everything that proves worthwhile takes dedication and work?
As Mom nods in reply, I continue with: Maintaining fluidity depends upon cultivating a fertile mind, which differentiates between when to swim upstream and when to go with the river’s flow—when to ride out a rapid current—and when to dive into emotional turbulence ever more deeply in hopes of surfacing with insight into confronting each conflict from angles never considered before—until, finally, bigger pictures appear in 3D. And as that kind of brainwork is often exhausting, I rest my mind while acknowledging everyone's need to soak up the sun and rest from stress, which results once I find myself communing with the positive side of human nature within the safe haven of a peaceful, languid pond—and then, having recouped a strong sense of spiritual energy—I accept the fact that there will be times when it proves necessary to stand up to the world, dig in my heels, yet again, and take another courageous stance, based in the strength of personal conviction backed by time-tested knowledge combined with personal experience while naysayers, contesting the validity of my personal choices, attempt to back me into a wall, yet again. (Double whew!) Over all, I work toward strengthening my resolve to resolve each conflict, which accompanies change, with compassion and patience rather than closing my ears and heart to vulnerabilities, which exist within us, all.”
With insight into my brief existence on the historical time line, I work to differentiate between those who seek to understand their self defeating traits vs. those who, fearing reality, duck and run for cover while pointing fingers of blame, elsewhere, when a messenger delivering deeper truth knocks at their walls of denial. As kill the messenger is classic to human nature, I seek wisdom into when to speak up and when to hold my tongue.
Having come to accept the harsh fact that life is short, meaning that my body will provide my spirit with transport for a limited time, I've chosen to wrap my attitude around this reality: *At some point in time, every person, alive (including me), stumbles into accidents, prejudice, bias, misunderstandings, misperceptions, insensitivities, and unfair misjudgments, as well as countless forms of blind miscarriages of justice which may include: bullying, undiagnosed illnesses, chronic injuries, causing pain to devil us, daily, thus interfering with heartfelt plans—and then there's the toughest plague of all—that of a loved one's sudden, untimely, inexplicable death.
We hear that attitude is everything, because attitude filters into our decision-making process. And knowing that all of those issues comprise the downside of every person’s life—I’ve decided to consciously oil the fluid nature of my mind in hopes of going with the flow when fate forces me to accept changes that go against my will.
By way of embracing an openminded attitude, I grow ever more attentive to the powers of intuition signaling me to readjustment my focus from negative to positive, and thus do the combined forces of intuition and knowledge redirect my mind from that which feels disheartening toward opening my heart to embrace each amazing surprise that life offers up, thus rejuvenating my own sense of joy." (Whew! I thought that train of thought might never see the light at the end of such a lengthy tunnel!!)
At this, Mom, looking skeptical, says: Annie, that's easier said than done.
While nodding in agreement, I expound a bit more: "Wouldn't you agree that everything that proves worthwhile takes dedication and work?
As Mom nods in reply, I continue with: Maintaining fluidity depends upon cultivating a fertile mind, which differentiates between when to swim upstream and when to go with the river’s flow—when to ride out a rapid current—and when to dive into emotional turbulence ever more deeply in hopes of surfacing with insight into confronting each conflict from angles never considered before—until, finally, bigger pictures appear in 3D. And as that kind of brainwork is often exhausting, I rest my mind while acknowledging everyone's need to soak up the sun and rest from stress, which results once I find myself communing with the positive side of human nature within the safe haven of a peaceful, languid pond—and then, having recouped a strong sense of spiritual energy—I accept the fact that there will be times when it proves necessary to stand up to the world, dig in my heels, yet again, and take another courageous stance, based in the strength of personal conviction backed by time-tested knowledge combined with personal experience while naysayers, contesting the validity of my personal choices, attempt to back me into a wall, yet again. (Double whew!) Over all, I work toward strengthening my resolve to resolve each conflict, which accompanies change, with compassion and patience rather than closing my ears and heart to vulnerabilities, which exist within us, all.”
“Annie—if you try to tell me that by developing fluid patterns of thought, nothing in life is going to upset you then I'd say—that's nuts.”
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