We tend to have expectations for life,
we expect to receive fast balls -
but not curve balls.
Curve balls surprise us,
they throw us off balance,
they don’t follow familiar patterns.
Unexpected turns of events
Uncertainty brings us discomfort,
We dislike not knowing.
Life seems unanchored,
as if en route to somewhere else –
maybe a return to our old life or
towards a future imagined life.
Yet, what if we ARE living our new life?
What a provoking plot twist!
We are not ready.
We are still yearning for
familiar patterns of prior life.
Yet, we are flexible.
We live a new plot.
Whatever the plot,
we unfold in meaningful ways.
Our arc of life,
Steadily bends towards
our reflective senior years.
each plot will end in death.
by Robyn Sarah
It is possible that things will not get better
than they are now, or have been known to be.
It is possible that we are past the middle now.
It is possible that we have crossed the great water
without knowing it, and stand now on the other side.
Yes: I think that we have crossed it. Now
we are being given tickets, and they are not
tickets to the show we had been thinking of,
but to a different show, clearly inferior.
Check again: it is our own name on the envelope.
The tickets are to that other show.
It is possible that we will walk out of the darkened hall
without waiting for the last act: people do.
Some people do. But it is probable
that we will stay seated in our narrow seats
all through the tedious denouement
to the unsurprising end—riveted, as it were;
spellbound by our own imperfect lives
because they are lives,
and because they are ours.
“Riveted” by Robyn Sarah from A Day’s Grace.
I liked the idea the curveball and of buying tickets for a play. We may think our tickets are inferior. It‘s like what we are experiencing with covid. Whether we have gotten a good or bad ticket, we must keep an open mind. If we don’t look for abundance, we can’t experience it. It is there. The “arc of life” in your poem reminds me of a rainbow…it has a beginning, a fullness, then an end. We want the “play” to be Hamilton, but it’s not. Our attitude makes it what it will be.
All plots lead to death. Like the poem “Welcome to Holland” (see April 5 blog), it’s not always what you expect. Attitude means everything: we can find what we enjoy or we can complain. This is a time of loose ends, so we can make our choices. The word “denoument” in the poem: when the strands of the plot come together and are resolved.
I think of transitions. There is the old, the pause, and the new. Usually, you are in control of the pause. The end is not yet known.
It’s like we are being thrown a curveball now. And like the bell curve, where are we on the curve. I think back to my 20’s and 30’s when I felt I was invincible and felt I could create anything. Now I know that I have crossed waters before even realizing it. I want to take the energy of my 20’s and 30’s into my 60’s and realize the excitement of creating rather than bracing for the down side of the roller coaster.
I love the idea of living each day in liminal space. Things could get worse as there are more scary things than the virus. I like holding myself at a threshold and practicing balance. It’s a challenge and a joy. Like hanging on a trapeze, we have let go and are in mid-air. So we get comfortable with being uncomfortable.
I am reminded of yoga breathing. In the pause of taking breaths, there is that sense of tranquility and acceptance.