So much of Life is learning to let go.
When I think of my foundations, I remember my childhood, and the small, simple beginnings of those first chapters in the story.
My
Mother, with her winning smile and love of writing, singing songs and
playing guitar on the verandah in the summertime; brushing my hair and
baking cakes and cookies and all kinds of delicious treats to eat.
Reciting poems she had written as she tucked me into bed, and prayed
with me at night...
Dad, and his love of laughter and fun.
Teaching us to fish. Leaving us wide-eyed with tales of mischief and
adventure from his childhood in the Kiribati Islands; his radical
experiences of God, and his faith as a result, were instilled into me as
a girl. He taught me to hold fast to joy - that no one could ever take
it from me; I remember how he used to tickle me until I cried. His love
for the Ocean and the outdoors infused my upbringing with an awe for the
beauty of creation that is still a part of me now. Family gatherings on
my grandparents' farm, multitudes of cousins to
collaborate and conspire with, and green, wide open spaces - sparkling
ocean, deep blue skies; fresh, crisp air. Summer fragrances, Christmas
dinners around candle-lit tables.
That was childhood.
Laughter.
Love.
Music. Peace.
Simplicity.
Safety.
There are days when memories suddenly catch me unawares - memories
that remind me
just how deep the roots from which I have sprung are planted - filling
the
picture frames of my mind and flooding my heart with the gravity
of "home". The life I once lived and knew. A sense of familiarity and
complete mutual experience that somehow bore the weight of everything
else. We were complete together, even in brokenness.
I feel like there comes a moment in life, in the middle of all our
doing and seeking and striving - in our eagerness to grow up; to reach
maturity and independence - when everything suddenly
s l o w s down for a split second, and the noise and buzz and
busyness around us is silenced, compelling us to stop, take stock, and
turn around. Something inside us yearns for home again, for simplicity...
But all we can do now is remember. Remember where we have come from.
I think the value of certain life and relationship experiences
becomes more apparent to me the farther away I am taken from them. Time
only moves in one direction; we are born, we learn, we long to progress
to the next stage of life, exulting when we get there, and in doing so, sometimes forsaking the value of a season
as it is unfolding. Even if we could recognize the value of everything we experience, at every turn,
age itself spares no resting or pausing on this particular journey,
steadily churning forward, year by year, reminding us that we have only
so much time to recognize the value and treasure in each individual
chapter of our lives, before the next one presents itself.
For me, a sense of loss sometimes pervades this realization.
Understanding
the value of an experience only as the distance between you and it
increases feels like losing something before you knew there was anything
to be lost. You are left with a new kind of yearning to go back and get
it again, yet, an underlying understanding that you cannot do this
prevails; it is now the prize and treasure and experience of another generation.
You must re-learn the value of a moment or experience passed through mere reflection
and retrospect... in order to let go of it.
Sometimes, I feel like this sense of loss is the only way we
learn the value of our everyday experiences when they have unwittingly
been taken for granted. Because it is here, when a lone traveler striding hastily along the road of life, halts for a second, leans slowly upon his walking staff and looks
back over his shoulder at the trail of footprints behind him, that he will face the smooth path stretching out
before him with greater understanding and reverence. And he may ask himself the question: 'I wonder if the travelers in the direction from which I have come really understand the value of the moments they have been given to steward?'
I am reminded that there is some depth of truth to that old quote: "You don't know what you have until it is gone".
Life is precious.
