My perception of reality has been altered by my perception of what is important. One sees what one wants to see. I am not sure why, but sometimes we choose to think about what we fear. This might be because fear is powerful. But more likely it is because faith takes more work. It’s a fight after all. The good fight of faith. Our choice in dismissing fear for truth is vital. Faith in our hopes and our dreams is ultimately more powerful. The whole thing is set up this way. When we are disciplined in our thinking. When we think on the good and the positive, we get more of the positive. This is why I am beginning more and more to focus on ways to celebrate. I’m thinking we can have the party, before the answers materialize. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the reality of things not yet seen. So, lets celebrate!!!!!
Sometimes Trust is the Issue…
You have a very thick glass shield around you.
For awhile, I thought I was seeing the real you…
Now, I know I could never have known you.
You can not see me until something cracks the glass prison.
Who knows after that?
My concept of “old” was much different when I was 12. I remember hearing about a college student who was killed in a car accident. He was 28 yrs. old. My thought, at that time, was at least he had lived a long time and it wasn’t as sad as it could have been, had he been young. It has taken years, wisdom, and awareness to remove the concept of “other” from older people. I am one of them now. Now, I want to paint a brighter picture of what aging is. Denial is pointless. With the invention of mirrors and the changes in my body, I would have to be a little crazy to think I am young. But, with that being said, my navel gazing has revealed to me the brighter colors in my attitude. I know my life is steadily, day by day, marching toward “old” and beyond. I have begun, more often, to see myself as “eternal”. This is better.
There is beauty in us all. My artistic self leans into perceiving what is not necessarily obvious in other human beings. We have all sorts of lovely things built into us that can be observed with only a little effort. We can see the spiritual in another when we try. Love, and joy, and peace, and trust are all quite visible. Of course, this takes faith. But, there is enough faith in us to adopt a more positive approach to getting older, and everything else while we are at it. My inner life is in many ways, at the beginning of a new leg of this journey. The best IS still ahead of us. When we think and believe this, we experience less stress. More inner peace is available. We love ourselves and others better. We laugh more. Lets have a party! Share a meal, listen to music. Take a few moments to be honest with ourselves, eliminate excuses for self-pity, comparisons, or complaints. Lets be thankful one moment at a time. It is in this moment, with the wisdom we have acquired so far, we become our finest art.
We walked, holding hands and hugging ourselves, up the long gentle hill winding to the hotel. Massive snowflakes drifted gently from the clouds, landing on our coats, hats and faces, finding purchase on us and on the ground. We talked about our dreams, about who we are and who we want to be. The air was filled with softness. The snow absorbed all hard-edged sounds and we listened to each other. This walk, this conversation, the hot tea and honey we drank slowly, wordlessly, while gazing out the windows, all contributed to the magic of the moment. A moment filled with dreams and promise (a promise of more to come). And with the snow came a peace, a contentment, a joy, a knowing that the best is yet to come. Always and ever, the best is still to come.
I am a thinker. My earliest conscious thoughts are memories of wandering around our tiny farm, making up stories and songs and sometimes feeling so thankful, I would cry. The way my mind processes story is first through image. I get a picture in my mind which triggers words. I remember carefully studying a milkweed pod, its pristine white fibers popping out for the wind to take away on some adventure. And I remember telling God he had done an amazing job with these lovely weeds.
I also pondered in those early years, the mystery of death……and other things which baffled my young mind. Eternal questions which remain a mystery still. I love mystery. I am drawn to it much more than I am to certainty. In my world of artistic discovery, mystery holds far more beauty. So, this journey for me has been a process of finding a few ambiguous truths of which I am certain: it IS better to “think on what is good and pure and lovely” than to close the door on optimism. At least in this moment, There are plenty of milkweeds to be thankful for.
Longing for more…more connection…..more Love…turning to Life….choosing to live….being thankful….sharing what we have been given….sharing what comfort we have. Knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt that we are loved. Never deserving, only believing. This life is a mystery. We see through a glass darkly. Yes it is a mystery. It is our shared mystery.