It seems like what I remember about philosophers and all they taught us in school about them is that they were on a forever search for the meaning of life. It’s been an epic and many times empty journey for so many. I think it’s a journey many of us step into at some point in our lives, usually following some tragedy or major life event. My story is no different. It just seems to evolve as new events come along.
Until I was about 29, my life was all about me. What did I want to become? What do my feelings tell me? Where do I want to live? With whom do I want to share my life experiences? You know, the typical young adult navigating new independent life stuff. I didn’t really see much beyond the lens of my own self. Oh, don’t get me wrong. There was personal growth and awareness to some extent. I didn’t live in a vacuum. After graduating high school, I left home for college and simply never moved back. I enjoyed being on my own. I learned so much….about me! I was apparently my own favorite subject. It didn’t take long for me to notice how different my upbringing was from those around me. Things I thought were totally normal just weren’t.
I grew up in a family of very angry people. We certainly all loved one another, there was never a doubt about that. But it wasn’t what was said, at least not often. Feelings were allowed to dictate pretty much every word and it’s venomous sting. It wasn’t until I left that I noticed (gradually) that others didn’t speak that way to people, loved ones especially. That was new. I noticed every thought in my head wasn’t supposed to be verbalized at the expense of other’s feelings. Truthfully, I didn’t even notice that my words impacted others at all. I just assumed they were feelings that made sound. It was a growing period for me that continues even to this day. I’m not a young adult at all anymore, not even close.
Well, at 29 a few things changed for me that rocked my whole world. My husband left. He had had enough of my emotions controlling our home life. I don’t want to own it all myself. He was horrible. But this is not about him. If we don’t choose to grow and look at ourselves when things like this happen in our lives, nothing will change. We will continue to make the same mistakes over and over and will forever be a victim to life’s circumstances. No, I’d like to be in control, thank you. I’d like to learn from life and transform into whatever colorful butterfly is to emerge from this cocoon.
You know, I believe it happens more than once. We aren’t animals or insects or whatever baser being we blame our faults on. We aren’t subject to our lower nature simply because we share a genus called mammal. No, we are human beings. We stand apart from the rest of creation as God’s spirit filled beings made in His image. We have a choice in our lives as to whom we become and when. And it’s a never-ending journey. We can enter that cocoon as many times as we choose to.
Well, age 29 was my first emergence from my cocoon of personal change.
I was suddenly faced with only myself. I was faced with the ugliness that lingered in my heart placed there by habitual learned behavior. And I had a choice. I could stand firm and claim that this ugly attitude was who I am and others would just simply have to take it or leave it. Or I could decide to be something else entirely. My personality, of course, will never really change – it’s about the details. It’s all about the edges of my personality. The edges are what touch other people. We typically don’t invite just everyone to the inner depths of our souls to connect with us on an intimate level. We touch gently (or not) with our edges. If our edges are sharp and hurtful, we won’t touch others in a way that is pleasing. If our edges are intense and intimidating, we won’t touch many at all, at least not for long. But if our edges are soft and kind and welcoming, we have the potential to touch many and begin wonderful and lasting companionships that can evolve into those deeper relationships.
So, there I was staring at my hardened self in the mirror searching for beauty. I wasn’t looking at my hair or my eyes or the quality of my skin. Not that kind of beauty. No, I was searching for the beauty inside me that was layered with hardened and prickly edges that kept people away. I think somewhere I knew I was a good person, but I also knew that I was intense – intimidating – judgemental – mouthy – argumentative – opinionated. – verbally and emotionally abusive. I definitely didn’t see beauty at that time. I saw all the things that made it easy for my husband to be hateful and awful, all those things that caused him to leave and give up on me.
It was a tough time facing the reality of my own faults. It was the first time I had peeked inside the genie’s bottle to see how she really lived in there. I didn’t see that cozy decorated interior like I saw on I Dream of Jeanie. There were no felted couches and beautifully draped sheer curtains on the walls. All I could see at that point was darkness and cobwebs hiding in the corners. I just knew that lurking in those depths was something hateful waiting to strike out.
I’m dramatizing a bit out of my own memories. Like I said, I’m basically a good person. But what causes our edges to be hardened and prickly but dark recessed corners of hurt in our innermost beings? It’s not a pretty sight to find. So, I decided it was time for a change. I wish I could say it was all on me, that I could take credit for it myself. No. Not at all. See, I got saved 9 days after my husband left. I know what you’re thinking. “Here we go! She’s going to run on about salvation and Jesus and church and I’m out!” That’s ok. I’m not going to go on about it all. I’m just sharing my part. I believe that God helped me through it all. He helped me look carefully at who I had become and gave me a chance to change with Him. That’s all. It’s not crazy. It’s just about choosing to change. I can’t do it all on my own. Those kinds of changes rarely stick. But with God, I was made new. I CHOSE to be made new.
Here’s why I chose it. Here’s why I chose God. I was searching for the meaning of life. Like I said earlier, my life was about me. How did I feel? What did I think? What did I want? It was all about me. Well, when I was all that was left, I lost meaning and purpose. I had to figure out……..well, the meaning of life. The search began. Was life about music? I’m a musician and my life revolved around music. Well, everything music related brought me pain and sadness. I mean, songs are typically about love. Many are about lost love or young love or sexual love or raw love. No, that was empty. Was life about family? It’s pretty much where life starts. Maybe that’s what life is about. No, my family was fine but brought me back to the ugly side of who I was. That wasn’t right.
I think it took about a year before a viable revelation came to me.
It’s about love. I know what you’re thinking already. You’re saying, “Well, duh.” But it wasn’t what my life was about at all. I didn’t grow up using that word. I didn’t really say it much in my marriage, although I’m sure I did love as far as what I understood of it. I discovered that life is all about love.
It’s about love for our families. Yes, even the broken and messy families love. Nobody starts out and decides, “Well, today I’m going to start a family to create hate.” No, it’s founded in love and perverted by a world filled with evil. But love is at the root. Loving our families is what keeps us communicating with our loved ones over the miles and the years and the massive life events.
It’s about love for our children. At that time, I had no children. Thank you, Lord, that I did not have children with that man. I’d never have been rid of his influence in my life. But the love of a parent, biological or not, is overwhelming and limitless. It reflects the love God has for us, His children. It’s why so many parents struggle with discipline and boundaries. It’s overwhelming sometimes. We cannot imagine temporarily hurting this tiny version of ourselves we’ve been blessed to nurture. But the love extends so much farther than our boundaries of feelings and emotions.
It’s about the love we have for our spouses. I know I loved at some level the husband who left. I didn’t understand it to the depths that I do now. But I learned so much from that experience that opened the door to the never-ending love I know now with my husband (not the same man, thankfully). We constantly learn more and more about love by learning about the love God has for us. We learn more and more about how to love one another by learning how He loves us.
It’s about loving our neighbors. I don’t think that literally means the people living on our street next to us, although that’s where we should certainly start. Our neighbors are the living people in our world. Whether it’s loving the next door neighbor who has recently lost a spouse by inviting them for dinner, or reaching out to the other side of the world with clean water or sponsoring a child in a third world country, loving our neighbors is about loving people.
It’s about loving all of God’s creation. Is there anything wrong with being an animal rights activist or “tree hugger”? Of course not. As long as animals and plants don’t take precedent over people and their value, it’s loving God’s creation. We should be equally passionate about protecting the lives of unborn babies and abused women as we are about baby seals, redwood trees, and soil contamination. I recently decided that ridding my house and family life of single-use plastics was a reasonable way to love the planet God has blessed us with. I almost feel silly including that, but it’s what I felt like including in my little sphere of influence.
It’s just about love. The world will be saved by love, not by arguing about politics or money. If our decisions are not completely permeated by love, they are not good decisions.
Now, I’m in the cocoon again. Thankfully, this time I’m not getting divorced or realizing my dark heart. This time I’m in the throws of grief after losing my mother suddenly. It sucks. There’s that dark side in my heart again. But it does. I’m searching my heart for all those places that are filled with light to shine through the pain and the sadness I’m feeling under this gloomy cloud above my head. It feels somewhat like that annoying drizzle of rain that ruins good hair days and causes us to slip a little on the roadways when we make turns a little too quickly. It pops up at the most unlikely times to cause our eyes to drip dirty water of regret. What I am aware of is that this will all be in vain if I don’t CHOOSE to grow though this. I CHOSE to crawl from the cocoon a new creation the first time. I am CHOOSING to allow the sludge of grief to melt away whatever is of the old to bring me to a new thing, ready to push out of my cocoon and become something beautiful. I don’t know what it will look like. I haven’t been here before. This cocoon is a different one. It’s a more mature one. It’s one prepared for me by my creator who knows exactly what I’m to become.
I’ll be in here a while, I think. Grief really doesn’t have a timeline.
But I know whenever I emerge, I’ll be changed……for the better………
FOR LOVE.