As arbitrary as our measurements of time can seem to me…it’s still time. It, like most things, passes. This experience of mortal life, of growth, of change, of aging isn’t a static thing, however much I want to find balance synonymous with ‘stability’. Change is. Time passes. I am a mortal creature (at least, as far as I know).
What lies beyond now?
Yesterday was hard. I managed the work day without anyone but my closest coworker being aware that I spent much of the day weeping quietly for no apparent reason I could ever pin down, besides the simple sorrow of aging, the passage of time, and the frailty of what is dearest to us in our experience. Change is. Heading home, I contemplated withdrawing to my own space and taking a quiet night of contemplation, and most probably additional weeping. I couldn’t bear the thought of inflicting what I could not fathom – or control – on those dearest to me. I got a lucky break – my traveling partner ‘gets it’ more often than most people around me do, and had put on The Voice for evening entertainment. How is that helpful? We don’t really watch much television, as a family, so it remains a very engaging ‘treat’, and the show he chose to share is one with a great many emotional moments in it; great camouflage for weeping. He simultaneously freed me to cry comfortably in the warmth of companionship without also having to feel I was imposing my emotions on others…and spared my dignity; there was no need for questions about my tears, and we could just let time pass in contentment and warmth. He could enjoy me without having to take the dive off the deep end with me. Easy. I like easy. It astonishes me how meaningful and relevant love songs, or moody ballads, can be when one is already weeping.
After a quiet evening, I crashed hard. Well, sort of. I fell asleep, deeply and immediately, and woke regularly to a half-waking surreal state that was not dreaming, and not waking, and not afraid – just floating in the sea of my consciousness, waiting for sleep to return. I woke ahead of the alarm, feeling a bit panicked for no particular reason; it receded with some minutes of meditation, and conscious breathing. I needed the rest, badly. This morning – no tears. What I do still have is this weird state of almost continuous back-to-back hot flashes that I’ve been having for about 3 days now, a handful of health and emotional concerns that I am fretting over…and an appointment tomorrow for a biopsy. That’s pretty scary. At 52, it’s just that time. I can pretend I don’t have this knot in my stomach when I think about it…but I don’t find that very effective. Instead, I take another breath, and a moment to appreciate love, and presence, and now, and the many people who matter to me, and to whom I matter, as well. Still anxious, but somehow, anxious in context doesn’t feel so scary.
What remains, for the moment, is figuring out whether I want my traveling partner to go with me. Is it weak that I might want someone strong to hold my hand? Am I less a feminist to want my partner by my side for such an intimate procedure? Is it fair to inflict these powerful emotions on someone else? What does ‘taking care of me’ really require? Are these questions I can answer fearlessly, honestly, and without shame?
Today is a good day to enjoy life, and let the sweet moments count as much as the every day doubts. Today is a good day to change the world.
Evening Light 