The Temporary, & the Forever

One of my favorite writers...Oriah Mountain Dreamer

The words, they jumble in my head, stacking up against one another like some wild five o'clock traffic jam on a big city highway. So much noise, I have forgotten what peace sounds like. I try to muffle the sounds among the daily inane, but to no avail. My pleasures are simple, while my mind remains...complicated. Alone in the dark at the end of the day, I can almost catch that moment of elusive peace, and then the dark does what it always does, becomes a place where all things converge even louder, the buffers of an average day no longer in the way.

Alone in bed, much, much later, the past, the present, the future converge there atop my soft pillow. I force myself to breathe, focus on the soft whir of the ceiling fan above me and pick apart one by one the reels of life-clips playing in my head. It has taken me years to finally convince myself that I'm no longer living a life that is temporary. And yet, of course I am, we all are. I can feel time gaining speed, and wonder, not for the first time, "Who am I? Why am I here? What does my presence on this rock hurtling through space mean, anyway?"

It is quite startling to realize that most people, places, and things are temporary, especially for a woman with a hopelessly romantic soul who's also not a big fan of change. It is also disconcerting to know that no matter how surrounded by others we may be, we truly face every single moment of our lives alone. I am dangerous to myself when left alone in my head for too long. I also have a tendency to get easily bored, which has frequently led to me pushing my "crazy button" just to see what would happen. This, of course, takes me back around to how my post began...in the noise, full of a cacophony of thoughts. I think it's easier for me to be "still" when chaos reigns around me, outside of me. It is when I become my most focused on what's deeply important. It is when I'm most likely to discard the "dead weight" of burdens I should have let go of long before I finally do.

That realization has hit me like a lightning bolt and it is in that moment of clarity where I find the one way in which I am most like my mother. There have been times over the last twenty years that she's come to me in just this way, wild and free with crystal clarity. Some discoveries are painful, while others give me great comfort and make me feel less disconnected. Unraveling the mystery of who I am, why I obsess over the things I do, is a journey in discovering where I come from, who I come from. And while I am fully aware that the people, places, and things that I love are indeed quite temporary, the powerful love that has connected me to them...that is one of those rare "forevers".