the emerging self

For some reason,this gentle, colored ,dogwood blooming spring day reminds me of a dangerous time in my life;the middle.I was approaching forty and the churning inside,the sheer discomfort of who I was, was creating inner havoc.All the things that I had loved seemed stale and empty to me.What I was doing and some of my choices had me scratching my head and looking in the mirror.Who are you?

There must have been one day that I said to myself that this rocky path strewn with possible ruin is not the way for you.I stepped back and thought;who do you want to be for yourself not for any other person's good,just your own?I  know that in this cocktail mix of terror and thrill, the Spirit was there letting me go out on a thin string held loosely by a loving hand.

In my pimple faced teens I never rebelled.My house was on all the posters for dysfunction and I didn't have the strength to add to the chaos.I believe that we must rebel at some point in order for our lives to be ours,not replicas of family members,idols,saints or anyone else. It is when we are half way into the woods that it happens for many.Were our choices really our own that brought us to now?

I think that my oldest son is in the wood right now and slowly hacking his way to becoming.He wrote this on Facebook:"Don't worry what the world needs.Ask yourself what makes you come alive and do that.Because what the world needs are more people who have come alive."

Perhaps some people never ask the hard questions of themselves.They wind up as grey ,shuffling men, unknown to themselves, that you see on subway platforms.In Spring ,one doesn't want to be a curled up grey ball not looking anyone in the eye.One should be an elf,a sprite ,running naked through those shining woods wrapping your arms around yourself in a hug of joy.