If our lives are a story that we tell day by day, I may have lost my pen. Even when I have my pen, I never know just when to close a chapter, and begin a new one. Chapters of my life tend to overlap and meander off on tangents. When composing these chapters, I sort of skip around. Chapter 23 comes after chapter 25, while chapter 31 forgot to be written at all. Some chapters have a comprehensible and literal time line, while others may be entirely about the way the toaster made a funny sound one morning and then refused to work again and how troubling I found that experience to be, being that I had just bought that toaster last month. Now, that’s just an example of the type of meaningless nonsense that can engross a person. It never actually happened. I much prefer toaster ovens to toasters, they’re far more versatile and reliable.
As days go by, and weeks go by, and then months and years, we each one of us, continue to write the novel that is our lives, stacking up page after page, shelving volume after volume. Within the boarders of these chapters, besides recording the silly and absurd, we also record our lessons, our triumphs and failures, our hopes and our dreams. Together these pages work to continually create the ever changing creature that is ourselves and flesh out the ever evolving world that is our state of mind.
Some chapters demand to be written. Yes, some can be skipped, and gotten back to when there is time or inspiration or inclination. Last year, I was meant to write chapter 37.
Ah… chapter 37. Originally, it was to have been completed even before the start of last spring. It wasn’t and I probably even made a New Year’s resolution to get it done, but alas here we are, 5 months into the following year and I’m just getting to it. At the time, I felt I could put it off, and get back to it at some later date. Maybe, I thought, I would leave it to do for a weekend that was gloomy, or when friends were out of town; perhaps I would leave it for a week when I was feeling under the weather and not up to doing anything else anyway. “Yes,” I thought, “I will leave it for some time like that, I will write it when the time comes that I am free of distractions and have nothing better to do!”
So, I left it.
And left it. And because the subject gnawing at my ear was a topic I really had no energy or desire or no-how to tackle, I left it for the whole year and then some.
We avoid the things we need most sometimes. I have most recently discovered the overwhelming extent to which I am an incredibly unconscious animal, acting predominately out of fear and survival instincts. Most of us don’t really like to confront issues, because this usually means some big overhaul in an area of life needs to occur. I think the survival instinct comes into play at these times; it kicks in when presented with the idea of change, because logically it cannot be proven that change, no matter how small, doesn’t actually mean complete destruction. I think the unconscious part of the brain just sort of freezes everything and thinks, “I’m alive. No matter how frustrating, limiting or unhealthy a part of life may be, we’re just going to leave it alone, because nobody can fully assure me that if that part is changed, I’ll keep breathing and this heart will keep beating. So, conscious self…back off!“
Chapter 37 originally had such lofty aspirations. In truth, it wanted so much to be a chapter about love and communication and turning the other cheek and standing up for what you believe in. Chapter 37 had wanted to be written out of enlightenment and dreams and telepathy. It wanted to be the culmination of all the things a person could learn on this planet, the coming together of intellectual knowledge with pure spiritual understanding, producing an orgasm of delighted comprehension in the universe within and without, wholly and fully. It wanted to be the greater good, the all knowing, the answer.
It felt that it deserved that. It felt it was time. It felt ready. Chapter 37 knew about all of the other chapters that came before it (it was also very aware of the unwritten chapters purposefully skipped by its author, but it forgave the author that, since those unwritten chapters were probably only going to be broken toaster story chapters anyway.)
Chapter 37 knew that the chapter on how to handle disappointment had been written, even though it also knew the author rarely remembered to review that particular chapter; it also knew the chapters on letting go (chapter 18), personal faith (chapter 10) how to identify a cult, when to say no to a friend and when to take responsibility in a working relationship (chapters 8, 24 and 32, respectively) had all been written and that these had taught the author much. If anything, chapter 37 was sure of three things: 1) it was going to be quotable 2) it was going to be a very interesting read and 3) it was NOT going to be a toaster chapter!
The author had some bad news for chapter 37.
While its wish to be interesting, quotable and meaningful were going to be met, it was far from becoming a tale spun about spiritual epiphanies and quantum physics.
It was going to be more a story about looking honestly at what is set before you. It would grapple with the problem of loneliness; in short, it was to be just another rung on the author's ladder to enlightenment and self-realization. The author just wasn’t yet where this book thought it needed to already be, and that was merely a reflection of the author’s own lessons to be learned surrounding Chapter 37.
Chapter 37 world become a necessary, and, up to that point, the most important lesson of all the chapters yet written. It would be a chapter about growing, accepting and living in the now. But it would be a hard knox tale about these things. It would be a little cold, a little harsh and have absolutely no frills. The inspirational quotes would have to come later.
Whimsical broken toaster story are well and fine and helpful too, but in the long run chapter 37 will relish even more the very speific part it has to play in the telling of a well-rounded story about a well-rounded person. Chapter 37 will find, in time, that being the bull horn for taking care of yourself, eventually leads to great respect, gratitude and thankfulness.
I don't know when I will finish this chapter. When I do, I'll be sure to share it with you, though be prepared. Its not going to ask for tears, but you may shed some. It isn't going to require you to share your feelings, but you will feel them. It isn't going to pamper, spoon feed or sugar coat. There will be absolutely no coddling. And we, you and I, will be the better for it. When then time comes to coddle, and cuddle, we'll be better able to do so. It may be getting cool here for a while, but that will only help us to feel the warmth that much more in the future.
