It’s funny to me that as time goes on we change a lot more considerably than the times do.
Of course we go through political changes and sometimes dramatic economic changes. International events change our landscape and even the places we live can change as old people move out and new people move in.
But really, is that so much more dramatic than the changes a person can go through over the course of decades and eventually a lifetime?
Twenty years ago I was sitting in my bedroom doing history homework and listening to 90s tunes over and over again until my cassette tapes broke. I cared about going to high school dances and playing in softball games and my part time job as a cashier. I craved excitement, but I was also a bit too scared to go after it. I listened to rules. I followed rules. I prayed for the day that I would no longer fear sharing my thoughts. I craved freedom from the restrictions I placed on myself, but I refused to remove those restrictions. My life consisted of a long string of tomorrows that my current actions were paving the way for. I was building my foundation and I was sure tomorrow held promise. I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was happy. Very happy in fact.
Ten years ago I was a newlywed. TJ and I were living in a tiny apartment a couple of miles from here. I spent my days traveling from college to college to teach English courses. I would lie in bed at the end of the night and think how totally lucky I was to have this man to share my life with. It seemed as if everything in the world would be okay as long as I could end my days next to him.
I still craved excitement. After spending years in Milwaukee and Chicago, my suburban town felt a bit boring. I wanted nightlife and excitement. Professionally, I was living in the now. I had gotten my degrees. I was doing exactly what I wanted to do. No longer, did I question what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was grown up and I was doing it.
Personally things were a bit different. I was married. I had that piece figured out. But many of the other pieces were still waiting to be written. Where would we buy our first house? How many kids would we have? What would they look like? What would they be like? When would those portions of my life begin? True, I didn’t question what I wanted to be when I grew up, but I still had large questions as to who I wanted to be when I grew up.
And last night. Today. 2014. My days are spent with three little people. They are the highlights of my life. I spend a lot of time cooking. And reading. And entertaining. I no longer drive all around the state each day to get to different jobs because my “job” can be done without ever leaving a two square mile radius.
These days almost none of my worries are about me or my life. Instead I worry about them. I no longer question who I will become. Instead I consider the paths they are on and who it will lead them to become. Many of my grand questions have been answered. I know who I am married to. I know where I live. I know who my children are. But now greater questions consume my thoughts — and those are the questions of their lives. Will they make wise choices? Am I preparing them enough so that they have enough choices in front of them? What will they value? What will they teach? What have they learned? What will they want?
I no longer crave excitement. At all. Instead, I want peace. We have a lamp in front of one of our windows. When we have the shades open right as evening begins to set, if I pull into the driveway, I can see it peaking out behind the shades. It looks comfortable. It looks quaint and traditional. It looks soft and warm and inviting. And that is what I want. I want a home of peace. A home that seeks to be whole so that we can grow into a family of people who want to change the world by changing ourselves. A family that honors and respects tradition and love and generosity and compassion and kindness. I want a home that will buffer us from the growing crudeness and selfishness of our culture. I want a home in which never are the words, “looking out for number one” spoken. I want a cocoon for us all to nestle in so that when we go out into the world, we can do it with wings spread in confidence to embrace a world that desperately needs embracing.
I now know what I am. And who I am. And now my questions are about where that will lead me. I know my strengths. I know my weaknesses. But how will I continue to use them as time moves forward and my roles evolve?
Who knows what life will bring in the decades to come. If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that time can tear down just as easily as it can build up. Foundations can be shaken. Eventualities can become impossibilities. Impossibilities can begin to open up.
I’m 36 years into this journey. Who know what tomorrow will bring.
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