There are weeks which are unique. I’m labeling this past one a passageway week.
I’m a fan of Narnia. As in the book series written by CS Lewis. How there are passageways into another realm. One minute you’re in the known, comfortable, realistic world. The next, someplace so absolutely different it’s nearly beyond comprehension.
Again, I feel as though this week has been a passageway week. Somewhat like a tunnel, connecting the past with the future. I still look the same. In many ways, feel the same. Nothing drastic has changed in my inner being. Yet maybe it has.
It’s hard to explain. And unnecessary to make completely known. Yet, in my opinion worth noting because I am starting to see more clearly.
My Friday began with a walk with my friend. To a destination just down the street. Coffee, tea, discussion. And she asked me a question. Do I know my purpose? Interesting. Deep. I know there are people, people I know well, who could answer that question without much thought. Me, speculative…analytical…me. I’m gonna have to figure that out. Sure. I know in part. But lately I’ve considered dreams. As in {what is mine}? I play a role in other people’s. Willingly. Gladly for the most part. Yet. I have to consider. Me. What is my place in all of everything?
The beginning of the end is more difficult to deal with than the actual end.
Does that make sense? I’ll expound in a general sense. When I very first get the inclination it’s ending, I can, if I desire the end not to come…hope. I can hope it is truly not the end. But soon, I realize…yes, this is it. Finality is approaching. A day will come when this will cease. The reality that to hope will be to fail. There is no hope. And fears arise. Uncertainty. Regret, perhaps. Questions. Chaos in my mind. Until I can come to terms. Then, even so, it’s not easy. Letting go is difficult. But acceptance comes before release. And that’s the hardest pill to swallow. That I must accept the end. As I progress, I can transition into a new beginning. New hopes. Settling thoughts.
Another discussion. Same friend. Next day. And I see, once again, the passageway. A tunnel through a mountain. It’s raining today but when I finally peak out the other end, the sun will be shining. Which is encouraging. Enlightening. Helpful though {helpful} seems such a lame word at this juncture.
I see the circle. The people. Places. Reasons in part. Messages, even today, yet I don’t feel as I once did. I am filled with joy. Relief. It all makes logical sense in the most illogical way. And while I have no legitimate answer, I have what I need to proceed. Connection.
I have thought of places. Significant, to me, this week. Related to work. Related to emotions. Related to my heart. Literal places I have actually been in. Today. Yesterday. Monday. I have thought of ownership. Dwelling. Space and time. Home. Memories. People. Cause and effect. Dare I say love. Love. All related to places. I’ve quoted it before but I do believe I will again. A Wendell Berry line from his novel, Hannah Coulter:
The place doesn’t care if you love it. But for your own sake you had better love it. For the sake of all else you love, you had better love it.
Challenged to not turn around. Keep moving until I find my way to the other side. Maybe there is not just one place for me, there. Maybe there are multiple. I think of a movie I just watched. About home and country and ultimately, another place. Full circle. I am reminded that the passageway might just be shaped in a circle. Leading me back to…exactly where the journey began. I am reminded of where I sat today and how different it was when…but that place was in the middle and I doubt I’ll ever return. Rephrasing…I know I’ll never return.
I’m in the middle of the end. Which is better than the beginning of the end. I’ve learned that much. And the end-end also equals the beginning of the next. So while crying still, I anticipate joy.
Upon a Sunny Day 