The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part VII

This post has been moved.

The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part VI

This post has been moved.

The Post I Hate but Have to Write, Part V

This post has been moved.

The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part IV

This post has been moved.

I'm All Out of Faith

This post has been moved.

The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part III

This post has been moved.

The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part II

This post has been moved.

The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part I

This post has been moved. 

Awake and Alive

In contrast to my last post, I have to wonder how much did we really know about ourselves, our dreams and visions when we were 19 --  that we were forced to deny as we grew into adulthood? Is it possible those things are truly "us", even if those things do not fit into our present reality? Do we relate to the person we were when we were younger better than we relate to ourselves today? Do we see that somewhere in the past we had to choose between two dreams that were in conflict with each other; that it was impossible to have both? Do we now regret the choice we made? Did we make a choice that was contrary to the wisdom of our elders? If so, why?

All of the above questions bring discontent. In another word, regret. Looking back at all the things that could have been, and finding today that those things will never again be.

Unfortunately, I don't have answers to those questions. I don't think anyone ever will. We can't go back and try again. I don't think anyone has any delusions of that. We all understand that the regrets, the unfulfilled dreams and the what-ifs are all a part of adulthood. It's a rare individual who has done and achieved all he has ever dreamed. We know this deeply, in our heart and soul. And we grow and mature from the pain those lost dreams have left in us.

Finding a 'spiritual center' is, in my mind, fundamental to countering the discontent we might find in midlife (and in other times of life, as well). Not necessarily a theist or deist center, but a concept of life greater than ourselves. it could be humanism, it could be panentheism. It could take countless other forms.

However, what if we cannot identify that spiritual center? How long do we wander before we give up finding that place that completes us, and settle for something less than? It's the tension between not having that center and unfulfilled dreams that can really shake us. 

Religiously speaking, I have spent my life in "less than". I was convinced by "those in the know" that Christianity would complete me, it would fill those voids left behind by unfulfilled dreams, that it would cure my discontent. I heard countless biblical teachings on discontent, but couldn't ever find the place where God took over and I could let go of my dreams. He failed me, at least in that regard, if not in so many others.

The hopes I planted in my faith eventually drug me down. Those hopes nearly killed me, in more ways than one. In the end, those hopes haven't brought anything but disappointment. As I have shared before, I don't have THAT God. Either I'm doing something wrong or God isn't really who everyone says he is; he isn't who the bible says he is. I spent the better part of 30 years trying to make him be what everyone said he was, but he just, well, wasn't. It has taken six years of sorting through the disappointment and grief to find what truly lies underneath it all.

There is no longer any grief, only a sense of time wasted and wishing things had been different. I have sought but not found any center to replace the one I've lost. I have hoped that there could be some other center that would draw me in with it's gravity and find me a god to call mine. But I prance around the edges of commitment to anything, because everything I have tried hasn't fit. I used to know what size I wore, but it seems that I have grown. The further I explore, the more disheartened I become that there is any religious expression that would fill me. There are so very many options, but no right option. Yes, some would say I should simply choose something and stick to it, that options are our downfall. I say if it doesn't stick to the ribs of our soul, it's artificial and not worth the effort.

Discontentment can drag into depression, or challenge us to seek the deeper remedy within ourselves. For myself, I know very much of my discontent comes from the lack of spiritual expression. I have been aware of this for the years since I left the church, but have not yet found the expression that fulfills me. Perhaps it doesn't exist, but I refuse to give up hope that I will find it. I know myself too well to believe that  the spiritual part of myself must be buried because I cannot find a place to put it.

Discontinuity

HT The Blog for Why Won't God Heal Amputees

The Winter of my Discontent

We don't talk about it.

Not in polite company, anyhow. 

And needless to say, we love our children, we love our spouses. We love many things. 

But then there are those things. The things that haunt the dreams, the things that culminate in middle-aged depression. Those things that creep into the shadows of our discontent, and become poisonous leeches in our soul; threatening to capsize our way of life.

The things that, when we were 19 or 25, we were certain we would do, someday. The things that are our purpose, our mission, our calling. Those things that our life couldn't possibly result in NOT being, because those things are who we are, integrally, intrinsically.

But we are told along the way, or maybe we learn by osmosis through the languishing of older people we know, who wag their wise fingers and say, "Be content. Love the life you live", that those things are childish fantasy, and we must soon learn to live in the real world -- the mature world.

But somehow, you cannot. You don't love the life. You hate to bake, you do not sew; hell you don't even own a machine. You don't like domesticity, not one iota. Or you hate your job, but cannot escape it because it pays the bills or because you aren't trained for anything else.  And yet, it seems to think it is what you signed up for. And you regret it. Or maybe you just signed up for it a mite too soon, before the dreams had a chance to take flight and tire you out. Or flesh themselves out into some alternate version of reality.

And at 40, we begin to realize that someday will never come. We will never be who we thought we would be when we were 19, or 25.

We have mortgages and grocery bills and marriages and commitments. We may have chosen them, or they have chosen us, or we may have wandered blindly into them, once upon a time when we believed we knew what we wanted but really knew nothing at all.  

Sometimes those things awaken us in the night. Those things. Those things, that in the reality of our best optimism will never come to pass. Those things that we define ourselves by, even if they have never materialized.

And yet, somewhere along the way, we learn that, quite possibly, those unrealized dreams are nothing more than fantasy. We might see the fork in the road in perfect hindsight. We may know exactly what we would have done differently. But we also know that life isn't a 'Choose Your Own Adventure' book; least of not having any chance to go back and try again. We cannot ever know what direction those forks in the road may have actually taken us. Possibly somewhere greater than we imagined. Just as likely, not. 

What is sensibility? When are we to be old enough to give up on the old dreams? When might we learn that quite possibly there ought to be new, more manageable, more achievable dreams ought to replace them?

Because I haven't learned it yet, apparently. As much as my intellect screams at me for being a spoiled brat, I cannot find smaller dreams that have the potential to fulfill me. And yet, that same intellect tells me I'm doomed for disappointment and ought to stand down and be content.

Well. I'm decidedly not content. Polite company or not, I have dreams on this mountain of mine. Dreams that are MINE. Dreams that are not driven by the demands of others. Dreams that I still shake my fist at, dreams that still see me stand and holler that I WILL catch up to them some day, before I die. 

"I have dreamed on this mountain,
since first I was my mother's daughter,
and you can't just take my dreams away,
not with me watching.
You may drive a big machine,
but I was born a great big woman,
and you can't just take my dreams away,
not with me fighting.
This old mountain raised my many daughters,
some died young – some are still living,
but if you come here to take our mountain,
well we ain't come here to give it.
I have dreamed on this mountain,
since first I was my mother's daughter,
and you can't just take my dreams away,
not with me watching.
No you can't just take my dreams away,
without me fighting.
No you can't just take my dreams away."
-- 'Mountain Song' by Holly Near,
-- as performed by Star Nayea & Primeaux & Mike
-- from 'Sacred Ground: a Tribute to Mother Earth'

I am still seeking that which will fulfill me. That thing that is attainable, that will cause my unrealized dreams to fade into the past as a new and realized dream takes its place. For that is the true stepping stone, a bridge between the past and the present. The thing, this, the one thing that will fill the gaping void of what never came to pass with contentment and peace. Maybe we didn't know as much when we were 19 or 25 as we like to think we knew.

I don't think we can really begin to know our purpose until the middle of life comes and goes. Only then will we, perhaps in light of the wisdom of what we have dreamed but know will never be, understand what is meant to be. And those new dreams move mountains.

Some call it a mid-life crisis. I call it a great awakening.

It's that time!

The presents are open, the carols are sung, the tree is put away, the champagne has been sipped...now it's that most wonderful time of the year, when all good geeks hold their breath for the future of gadgetry. 

Yes, it's almost time for CES 2011!!

Ooh what toys and joys will be unveiled? What cool new geek tools will we be dreaming about a week from now? It eases the let down from the holidays to catch a glimpse of the amazing things that will be on many Christmas lists come December.

I'm a geek and proud of it.