The Ebb and Flow of Life
My life ebbs and flows, my mind too. Sometimes a wasteland of half-thought ideas, partly told stories, rabbit hole musings. Sometimes a blooming, fertile field, filled with possibility, hope and grand ideas. I have learned to live in the blooming and the wasteland, to deny nothing and embrace it all, joy, despair, pain, heartache, bliss, anger, love, giddiness, sorrow, grief, peace. It is all part of life, this most glorious, messy, complicated thing.
It is true that life is a terminal illness. No end but death. I find that comforting. As I enter what is most likely the last third or even last quarter of my life what I’m thinking about is how do I want to spend my remaining time and with whom do I want to spend it? I’ve never been a person with a large retinue of friends and acquaintances, preferring to cherish a smaller number of dear friendships; and now more than ever, I want to limit my interactions to those who will let me be me and support who I am without expecting me to be someone else. And I too, want to support those I love and cherish to be who they are, and to resist any urge within me that thinks, “I love you, now change.” As I learn to befriend all my bits and pieces, I learn to befriend the bits and pieces of others. I learn to love all of who I am and who they are, knowing that the loss of any one part makes us all less.
I have had the blessing and good fortune to find love in the second half of my life, a rich, robust, caring relationship with a person who is kind, funny, wise, compassionate, brilliant, and beautiful. And, even still, it took me twenty years to truly get, in the deepest parts of me that she really loves me. This is not a reflection on her, but on me, on my doubt of my own lovability, worthiness, born of the cultural matrix in which I grew and was nourished. Born of the beliefs I internalized, cherished, and nurtured. Beliefs I know no longer serve me. Yet is difficult to stand in my own worth and power when the world says I am not valued. When antisemitism is at record levels, and KKK flyers are spreading in my area, when anti LGBTQIAA+ laws are being passed at an alarming rate, when “good” people stand by and do nothing in the face of rising hate, I find myself fearing, and wondering, is anywhere safe?
But still I persist. I wake up every day and delight in the small things. The sight of my beloved lying next to me. The sound of our dog, snoring softly. The sounds of our cats running the stairs. The aroma of a good cup of coffee. The brilliant hues of our vegetable garden. The peaceable realm in our yard. A great conversation with a neighbor/friend on our morning walk. The delight of living in a neighborhood of caring people. So many small delights that fill the day and keep the dread at bay. So many tiny sparks of hope.
This I wish for you. That you find the sparks of hope in your life, and that you allow yourself to love all of yourself, all your bits and pieces.
