Tuesday, June 14, 2011

addressing the charges of my future self

Dear Future Self,

You made it clear to me, and I have been thinking about what you said since first you said it. I can hear the phrase ringing around my head; taunting my perceptions, shuffling up my ideals.

I’m afraid of you, you know. Or, rather, I might just be intimidated ('afraid' is a pretty strong word). You know more than I do. The things you understand full well are the things I’ve yet to grasp; your favourite accomplishments are behind you – but the mountains it will take climbing to achieve still lie in front of me. You know more than I do; you’ve been places I have not, you’ve seen things I have yet to even picture. Your life is comprised of the results of my work; the ease with which you experience this world is an ease that came through the challenge of my tomorrow. So while you taste the sunlight and explore this earth, I sit quietly in an odd sort of penance; wondering where to go next.

You know my every move by heart (and I can only speculate what yours might be). The advantage of being you, Future Self, is that you’ve already been here. You know which decisions I should be making, and which way I should be making them. You love where I couldn’t, and stand strong where I fell down. You’ve learned from my mistakes. For me the learning is yet to come; at present I am required to quietly set myself into mistake making. How else will you learn? And how else will I, eventually at least, become you?

You are more than I thought you would be; bigger than even I have been predicting (and yet, smaller somehow, too). That glimpse was a little jarring, I admit, and have been thinking of what you showed me since you showed it. Your life doesn’t match any of my ideals, or any of my expectations, and yet it is the life…well, I think it is the life I want. Now I get selfish and ask: would You show me the rest of it? Mystery is exhausting, and Decisions can be daunting, and though I know both are required I am still in need of assistance – I am glued to the board; whether it be by fear or practice I’m not entirely sure. But I have heard the call and I know that I must move. How else will I learn? And how else will you, eventually at least, become you?

The next steps are hidden from my view and yet I know that I must make them. Can I borrow a bit of strength, and perhaps some clarity too? I know I’ll be okay because I’ve seen you – both your smile and your posture and I know life didn’t break you – why else would you call to me, and ask me to become you?

There are words that, in their whispering, halt the speed of any man.

stop playing small.

…who me? Am I to understand I’m not as perfect as can be?
Rise up, comes the challenge, ignoring pride. Even more
than the rising itself, perhaps, the challenge is to first
admit we are needing of a change. Once admitted,
(then) we see grace. Only then do we know
what it means to turn a page.
And once that page is turned, blank canvases await;
white spaces that invite
a change of pace.

The Author that, believed, will show His face,
hands out ink and freedom, and gives us the will to write.
Words take the form of days,
conversation, reaction (arrogance or humility?) and
the Human Opportunity to pass time well.

I hear the call, and must now decide what to do with it.


1 comment:

Mama said...

Beautiful. I sure wish my younger self could have known what I know now. We all need to listen and learn from our elders.