Salutations to all,
I put out new content so infrequently these days that when I get notifications of new Subscribers, it happily makes me feel that what I have written about has a universal and an enduring message not outdating my work. And so welcome to the new subscribers and the enduring. I won’t say old subscribers. Because the word old is on the table in my life now. And so has a very significant meaning to which this piece will speak.
Tonight is the eve of Passover. The significance of Passover is a holiday of freedom, liberation and navigating through an unknown before reaching a place of clarity: for the Jewish people that clarity was Moses’ meeting up with G-d at Mt. Sinai and receiving the Ten Commandments. But it was not before the turmoil of parting a sea and escaping slavery and other harrowing events. These events defined a nation. For me, I take the psychospiritual aspects to heart.
In my own life, in our own lives, at any time, we are always navigating something. Perhaps most of the time the waters are smooth and there is smooth sailing. At other times the tide is high, and the waves are relentless. I for one wonder when the tide might go out a little and I get to see some beach.
I remember when I was 7 or 8 spending summers on Long Island with my parents and brother. The early morning Atlantic Ocean would be calm and the water’s edge far from the shoreline. The beach would be hardened sand with a layer of shells near the waterside ready for the picking. There were more gulls than people. The tide so far out that the rock face was bare extending into the water. I climbed the slippery algae covered cliffs easily with bare feet. Some starfish made it into the pail I carried with me onto the rocks.
Those lazy days are far behind. And the woman who so readily let me roam the beach alone because she had faith that all was going to be okay is now at the other end of the spectrum navigating the desert of dying. But she is not dying. Not yet. But she is not living, either. She is waiting. She does not have to be waiting, she can do a little more. But she is stuck in the in-between of not being able to help herself. Or not wanting to. Her pain, both emotional and physical are real, but not life threatening.
The older she gets the more empathy I have for her. I see her humanity. Catching up to what comes after is jarring. Making peace with it means making peace with yourself. My mother needs to part the seas in her mind. Maybe this is her spiritual journey, and her loved ones need only be there to love her so she can find calm waters and peaceful seas. And benefit from the amenities she has around her.
I did not know what direction this piece would take. I used the word old in the beginning of the narrative. Old is real. Not just for the very old, like my mother, who celebrated 95 last summer, but for the old-in-waiting. And that bucket is an interesting mélange. Our culture keeps pushing old back as if old can be pushed back to non-existent. But it can’t because the old must be housed. And in the numbers of up and coming old-in-waiting the current western model of habitation seems unsustainable and is unaffordable. But that is a conversation for policy makers and families both and beyond the scope of today’s writing.
For the purposes of this writing, I can look at the word old and rather than hide from it I can step into it the same way the Jewish people stepped into the desert on their way to liberation and freedom. They had no choice, they had to go, that was their destiny. It is our destiny to get old by way of old-in-waiting and then onward for whatever time we are given. If life was divided into 5ths, then the last 2/5 is a liberating moment of awakening to what comes next.
The who, what, when of the journey will revel itself in time. Who we meet along the way to make the journey a more meaningful one will unfold. Change is never welcome but necessary. Familiarity feels safe even if it no longer serves or is stagnating. Though planning for change is often like throwing spaghetti at the wall some things make more sense than others. Change will take care of itself as long as our ticket to everywhere and nowhere is stamped Faith.
Happy Passover to all who celebrate ✡️
To all, may freedom and personal liberation always be within your reach at any age and stage ☮️
Sending love💟
Beautiful piece! 🩷