As she spoke to me her words came to my ears as familiar, the very thoughts and expressions I had shared with her recently during a time she was hurt, bewildered and panicking. She spoke with certainty and conviction, her voice steady and full of strength. It was a sublime compliment that she did not remember that I was the one who had first proposed those very concepts and phrases. She was imparting her own wisdom, internalized and imbedded in her soul.
Later, as I thought about it, I was again warmed by her calm self-confidence. Simultaneously, I found pleasure knowing that I didn’t need to remind her about my part in her evolution. My self-identity stood free and clear. It wasn’t always so.
For too many years I was full of hurt, often bewildered and close to panic. Understanding came slowly as did insight and, finally, certainty and peace. Though conscious of a myriad of kind souls that surely attended my passage, time blurs together like a movie run at high speed. I live with an abiding sense of gratitude because I believe miracles most often walk with human feet –and my life today is the result of an abundance of such miracles. I also believe that time is not a straight line and my thankfulness, curved and accurate in finding its target, has graced my benefactors appropriately.
I no longer believe there is a straight and narrow way however one might choose to define that. Long ago I took “should” out behind the barn and shot it dead. Rules hold as long as they guide people without devastating them in the process. Right and wrong are two sides of the same coin. I am both common and uncommon, wise and foolish, connected and independent, thankful and blissfully unaware of all the blessings that surround me.
If I forget to thank you for your advice, forgive me. I may be too busy absorbing and internalizing what you said.
I am reminded of the paths in CiCi’s Garden, one leading to a fountain, one to a rose planter, another to nowhere in particular.
What really matters is that whatever path CiCi takes, she is surrounded by flowers, the sounds of splashing water and birds chirping, sunshine and shadow, earth beneath and sky above. Sooner or later she always flops down in contentment.
Move over, CiCi. I’ll join you!