As
I have approached each decade of my life, whether it was the first at
age ten or forty years later staring down the barrel of fifty, I have
taken a moment to pause and reflect on where I spent the previous
decades.
At
ten reflection was quite simple and short. I don't remember much of
the first ten years. I'm not one of those remarkable individuals who
can claim memories from the womb, and lets face it I honestly I think
I would purposely block those memories. There is enough to worry
about without trying to remember life in the womb. Besides I
experienced it later on from a mothers perspective.
The
first ten years of life I spent trying to adjust to everything. I was
still in awe of my parents. As a ten year old they were bigger and
stronger than me. They made decisions I couldn't possibly fathom,
like expecting me to eat liver, brush my teeth and be nice to my
brother. Those were small things and (although I was certain they
were trying to poison me with the whole liver thing) the small things
added up and began to mold me.
Reflecting
on life is a skill. So with my first decade I am pretty sure my
reflection amounted to “Hey cool no more single digits” (I
actually remember somebody pointing that out to me.) But aside from
that, the experience I had gained up to that point went largely
unnoticed. Those little gems would be tucked away in a grubby little
memory pocket until I needed them later on in life.
The
single most poignant memory still lingers today. The smell of Estee
perfume can evoke how it felt to have Mom's undivided attention at
bedtime as she tucked my brother and I in and talked to us about the
things we wanted to talk about. That may not have been as poignant if
my parents hadn't divorced and Mom moved away. But it became a gem of
comfort years down the road.
By
the time I reached the next moment of reflection in my life I found
that those little gems were in encased in an ugly rock. I didn't know
it at the time but I was creating a geode. A geode to me is a
geological wonder. I find it fascinating that it even exists. A hard
ugly outer rock that when cracked open reveals a crystalline
interior. Magic! It's like a nature made treasure chest. It pleases
me to compare my life shaping events to one of these fabulous natural
wonders. So here I am at forty-eight and delighted that my life can
be summed up by a geode! But that is what I have discovered at
present. Back to my first real reflection on life or step two in the
skill of reflection, because at twenty as much as I thought I knew, I
was still pretty ignorant.
At
twenty I found myself pregnant.
My
second year of stumbling through college, working part time and
attempting to cultivate a relationship with a guy five years older
than me, ran me face to face with responsibility that I had no idea I
was attempting to dodge. They (yes the famous faceless they) always
said that you can run but you can't hide. Thing is, I was all over
the place. I thought, (and truly my thoughts were vague uncultured
things) I wanted to learn different languages, but I also wanted to
teach Phys Ed. I also wanted to write, but that was discouraged as
too difficult. What I really did was ditch everything, and get
pregnant. That focused my thoughts quite a bit. There was a definite
end result to this situation. Getting through college remained a
vague notion. Having a baby had become a crystal clear realization.
At
this point it was truly time to look back and see if there was
anything in my past experience that was going to get me through this.
This is where skill in reflection comes in handy. I lacked skill. My
reflection at twenty went something like this. “So Dad, I'm
pregnant,” fortunately this was a phone call several thousand miles
away, any shouting and I could simply back the phone away from my
ear. It wasn't necessary. Just a couple of statements from Dad, like
“You can get an abortion you know.” and when I told him I was
going to marry the guy, “Oh well I can't make it, I have to work”
(he made it to the wedding, but that statement nearly got him
disowned.) Mom on the other hand took it in stride and was there
right away to help out with the hasty wedding arrangements.
I
did not have to go this route and get married (abortion frightened me
and still does so that was never an option). I never thought to
question beyond the advice of my friends and family. To form my own
opinion of the situation. I do remember thinking in one wild moment
that there had to be another third option. It is from this moment
that the gem of “you always have a choice” was born and went into
my geode. Gems or experience. You create them as you go. Needless to
say the choice to be single came around a couple years later. No
looking back then. I jumped into single motherhood with both eyes
closed and the help of my family.
If
that were all! But it's not. Raising children has been a large chunk
of my adult life, but not all of it. All I know is that after looking
back on life at twenty I dove in, and didn't look back again until I
was approaching my mid thirties. (My decades aren't true decades, I
seemed to have an issue with regular reflection.)
By
the time my mid thirties arrived I had expanded in many ways. I was
tired of being a single mom, so husband number two showed up with a
few promises. There I went again, no critical thought as to what my
actions would bring about this time. On my thirtieth birthday I was
nursing my third child. Reflection? No at this point sleep was more
important. It took the pregnancy of my fourth child before I woke up
and entertained critical thought. By this time my geode was the size
of a bowling ball. A good crack upside the head was how it got my
attention too. One day. I could not tell you anything about the day
other than the fact that someone made one of those comments that
burned itself into my brain like a brand.
“What
do YOU want?”
How
many times a day do you suppose someone will ask that question and
you shrug it off like sleep? Why did this question burn through my
fog of ignorance? Who knows in what context this question was
launched at me, but it doesn't matter. It struck a chord. It made me
stop and look at my life. Really look at it.
Finally,
I started to ask questions. Not to friends. Not to family. But to
myself.
What
did I want?
Was
this the life I wanted?
What
do I do now?
I'm
a writer. I have been since I could pick up a crayon and draw picture
stories. Every time I needed to sort my life out I wrote. Oh? So
wait. I had been honing my reflective skill all along. This was the
first time I used it with critical thought. The first time I
considered directing my life.
Still,
I was a novice. I was getting gooder (yes I said gooder) But I was
skilled enough to understand what I was doing.
When
I started pondering the meaning of my life I was married. I wanted my
husband along for the journey. I mean how could I change my life with
out him? This is where a few new gems formed. These were born out of
pain, fire, hell; these hurt. If I had known how badly this journey
was going to burn, I may never have had the courage to start it. Good
thing I didn't know. Safely on the other side now, it was worth it.
Yes
I say that. That journey not only cost me my children, I was sent
directly back to the beginning. Yes I was back at my parents house.
Mid thirties and living with my parents. Single mom again. You see,
one thing I didn't account for when I started answering those
questions,was that I was ready to move forward. My husband was not.
As I look back I think I scared him very badly.
We
divorced and my now ex husband moved my kids across the ocean and
four thousand miles away.
September
11 2001 attempted to destroy my personal security and my job.
Then
something remarkable happened.
That
giant bowling ball sized geode of life experience cracked. It took
one epiphany. I remember this vividly. I was driving and had stopped
at a red light. It was afternoon and I had just gotten off work. I
was in Kona. I remember thinking, “I have no control over anything
except what is in my head and what comes out of my mouth.” I'm
lucky I noticed when the light turned green. My next thought was, “I
can say what I want, when I want. No one can make me speak before I
am ready.” Whoa. I pondered these thoughts for a long time. These
were the gems I could see from the crack in the geode.
The
geode cracked all the way open with my next realization. “Everything
I do is guided by choices that I make every day. Taking the time, to
consider my choices, was completely up to me.”
It's
the first time in my life that I think I ever relaxed. Since that
moment life became simple for me.
The
single worst thing I have done? I attempted to ignore these things.
Maybe ignore isn't the right word. Tested is better. I spent the last
eight years trying to prove these truths wrong. It finally came to me
that in conjunction with how I make my choices, was that I already
had everything I would ever need to be happy. I simply had to
remember that the angst or issues or problems of others were not
mine. This truth is paramount for me, “There is nothing wrong with
supporting, loving and caring for others, but losing yourself or
placing more value on someone else is wrong.”
One
final gem that I oddly enough gained from an airline safety video was
“place your oxygen mask on yourself before helping others.”
simple, if you are incapacitated you are of absolutely no help to
anyone else. Therefore, I must take care of my self. I must care for
myself first or I won't have anything to give. Oddly enough it seems
like that's all I've done, but really I haven't. The taking care of
myself stems from my own motivations. If my goal is to get something
for myself to have it, then I have failed. If my goal is to ensure
that I'm healthy and happy, then I have taken care of myself. I am
now free to care for others.
Now
here I am. Fifty is in sight. My second half of my century stands by.
I can honestly say I look forward to what lies ahead. Sure I traded
my youth for this unique and polished geode of wisdom. Gladly. It
will take me through the rest of my life. Who knows what I will do,
but I am certain that I will move forward with a purpose and
determination that was absent in my youth.
Oh
and by the way, I plan to live forever.