Monday, December 31, 2018

Goodbye to All That and Thank You


En EspaƱol, Adios a Todos Eso 

Poet and historian Robert Graves wrote his autobiography Goodbye to All That to explain his change of thought and feeling about English society and other conventions after his experiences in the First World War. Conflict causes many pairs of opposites to arise in sharp relief within us. We cling or renounce, preserve or release, as necessary. Perhaps some renunciations and releases require a great deal of anger and resentment in order to fuel the energy for change. At a certain point in life, though, there are only so many battlefields, courtroom dramas, espionage missions, or alien invasions to be faced with the same degree of certainty and vigor which youth supplies in abundance.

Change can be faced in ways that are far less fraught, maybe less exciting and stirring, but no less effective in the synthesis of opposing values. The following idea isn’t mine, but a ritual that can be engaged in during birthdays or at the outset of a new year is one of assessment and gratitude. We can take some time to think of all of the ways that we were brought to the point in life where we now reside. All of it was a combination of blessings and burdens that shifted as did the circumstance. Some things are passed down to us as valuable assets, lessons, beliefs, attitudes, visions and warnings meant for our good and for a way of life. Yet many of these can become unnecessary or burdensome and no longer serve us or our offspring.

The more it is a part of our identity, the more painful it can be to detach from it. Worry and panic can fill the void it leaves, and so we cling. But nature abhors a vacuum, and as we live and ripen, we can make more conscious choices on how the empty spaces are filled-- because they will be filled-- whether we choose or not. Or perhaps we can learn to tolerate the temporary empty feeling without shoveling something in to relieve the sensation quite so quickly.

Without bitterness, it is possible to lay something aside with compassion for why it was needed for someone else’s well-being. We can imagine the pride and joy it was for those who came before us, or perhaps alongside us, and let the dignity of that fulfillment remain, even as we lay it down. So if we are to say goodbye to all that, we can also add a thank you for those gifts, and face the Way that lies before us, more fitted to our own proceeding. This can be a ritual of our own design, private or shared, simple or elaborate, and can be a balance to the natural desire for mindless oblivion that the end of the calendar year can rouse.

Thank you for reading. As I am in a time of review as well, my blog may shift in its focus accordingly. But I will never stop wanting to share the many ways that life has been witnessed by those in their own time, and discover what will continue to emerge in my time. The instrument I’m writing with didn’t exist when I was a child, and it may not be used or even opened by those who come after me. It's transitory, as technology and style should be. But with confidence I know that what is real and enduring will always be found by someone who needs it.

Feeding the Ducks by Mary Cassatt, watercolor 1894