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talking to myself

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The human journey


markdohle

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The Human Journey
(life needs to be lived, though it is not always understood)

I remember when I was very young, that there were days when I felt very old.  Even then, I felt a certain type of inner fatigue….why does life have to be so hard I would intuit, if not actually think it out.  Of course, life was not always hard when young, but it was the times of struggle, and fear, that made the biggest splash in my small pond. 

I used to like to sit and listen to adults talk.  Not sure why that was so, but they were more interesting than children my age.  Did not understand everything, but one thing that stood out was how often disappointment, failure, and sorrow took up a lot of time, aside from the gossip I guess.  I would sit there and wonder, why do adults suffer so much?  I understood suffering, anyone who has been on this planet for any length of time, knows that.  Even someone five, or six, years old.  It is not the whole story, but I have known no one who has not been through ‘something’ that leaves a lasting impression.  Adults, for me as a child, were another life form entirely.  I guess I never thought I would ever become one, but I did…..it is still a shock. 

I did not like being a young child.  I found it scary for some reason.  I remember being picked up and placed here and there, which I did not like.  Being afraid at night, and unable to get out of my crib, or seeing strange dark objects in the corner of my room.  Yes, I had a good imagination.  Still do, though now life is not so scary, at least the way it was when I was young, very young.  Children are much more aware than many adults believe.  Those who remember ‘way back’ into their life, say even in their crib, or two years old, understand this.  We can see, hear, and interpret life around us, often in ways that are more ominous than they really were.

In a house in Steelville, Mo., there was a narrow walkway outside our front door.  It seemed a long run to me, but of course it was not.  However, that small space scared me, and I would crawl, and stumble, and sort of run through it.  I would plunge out of the front door and land on my knees….still have the small scars that show it.  I was terrified of that small space, an empty space, a safe space, yet I was terrified.  I remember many years later, when I was in my early 30’s, telling my mother about it.  She was amazed that I never told her and wondered why I was always skinning my knees.  It never occurred to me to tell anyone.  It was just life, which was the way things were.  I had no way to judge what was good or bad, life was life. 

I have very few nightmares now, perhaps one a year if that.  I think the reason is that I reached my limit at about the time I reached 10 years of age.  I used to have nightmares every night, and I guess I knew I was dreaming.  I could feel my eyelids trying to open. It would start with a green fog slowly flowing into the dark forest that I found myself in.  It was a gravel path I was standing on, and it was cold and clammy.  There was also music, which made the whole dream worse.  It was like movies that I saw when older that were scary movies.  Then the zombies would come, people who would shuffle trying to get me.  I would try to run, but the gravel path was really difficult to navigate, and my legs were heavy and hard to move.  I was never caught, and when I found someone who I thought would help me, they would simply laugh at me.  Funny thing, I was never afraid to go to sleep, nor did these nightmares follow me throughout the day.  Then when I was ten, they stopped.  I do think the nightmares came from a time in my life when I was two.  I guess I outgrew the fears that plagued me, or they lessened enough to end the need to dream them.

There were also many good times when young.  There was laughter, peace, a feeling of being safe, good meals, happy holidays, and my parents were always around.  My dad worked long hours in the gas station in East St. Louis, my older brother Skip helped out.  We always had a place to live, and we never went hungry.  So in many ways, my life as a child was peaceful and happy.  It was my own inner life that caused me so much trouble. 

I do not think that my childhood fears are unusual.  Children feel everything too the depths of their being, it is later I guess, that I learned to repress.  I would have this long hallway in my mind, and I would get something unpleasant and simply put in a room and lock the door.  I guess I have been trying to unlock those doors ever since.  I think I may be about halfway through that long hallway.  So if I live to be 140 years of age, I may get to the last door.

Now I am at the opposite end of my life.  Soon to be 70, I find myself happier and at peace.  I did not like being young, but I do like getting older.  Not that it is easy of course.  Not sure any time of life is easy for us here in this world of constant change, at any stage.  The fragility of getting older is, of course, different than when I was very young.  I can think about it, perhaps understand the process a little better, and even find meaning in it.  When young I think it was about clinging to life, learning, and simply taking the next step.  Now I guess it is about letting go and finding a certain peace and joy in that.  I can see the end, more or less.  I am aware of the light more than when young, but how close it is, that day when the light becomes the most real ‘thing’ in the world; not sure.  It is close, but by that I mean, it could be 20 years in the future or more.   I could live that long.  However, since the last 30 years have passed so fast, I am sure that the next will speed up even more. 

My faith is different than when young.  I do not feel I have to convince anyone of my faith in Jesus Christ.  If someone attacks me for being Catholic, I just smile and tell them that I do not argue over faith issues anymore.  I see how hard it is for me to change and grow, to become a more loving person, so it is not all that hard to make jumps for others.  My only business is to seek to love others more.  Now that keeps me busy.  I still fail more than I succeed, yet one step at a time O Lord.

I am thankful for many things.  I can now make friends, in the past, it was difficult for me.  I was always on my own, I took care of myself, did not feel the need for anyone.  It was of course based on fear.  Now that I now that I am anxious more than angry, it helps me to be more open to a ‘few’ very close friends.  Yet I also have friends that are not close in that way, but I love them very much.  So yes for me, getting older is much better than being very young. 

Fragility is something that those who live to be ‘older’ learn.  We have to let go of long-standing ways of doing things.  I can’t run upstairs anymore, nor can I lift heavy objects, because of my back.  I no longer have the energy to easily do what I could when young.  My mind gets befuddled more than when young, and I need to spend more time alone, though I always needed lots of it.  Fatigue is now my constant companion.  I see how I fail more than I get it right, but have learned after many dark times, to understand that God’s ‘YES’ is always that, it is never ‘no’.  That can come from me…I still wrestle with God.

I am not in control, never way actually.  I am not perfect, I believe I sort of knew that when young.  I certainly have less answers than when young, and am happy about that.   Even though my faith in God’s love deepens, I understand less about how he works…..that helps me to lessen my childish judgments about others.  That is a burden that I am glad is getting lighter. 

God is faithful, I am not really, yet because of that, because of his constant fidelity, I find myself becoming the sort of person that I actually like.  I know my gifts, well some of them.  Since they are gifts, I am thankful, but the credit goes to God’s grace, my DNA, my education and the influence of my family on me.  So I have a lot to be thankful for.  Yes, life is hard but is taking us somewhere. 

Not all agree with me, but that is ok….from birth till death, we all walk the same road.  So let us try to love, listen, and support each other.  To speak truth gently, and to become more like the God who is kind to the thankful as well as the unthankful.  I find myself it both camps, yet experience God’s kindness, compassion, and mercy. –Br.MD


 

 

 

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