Seizing Life’s Gifts Without Collapsing From the Weight of Them
Like many of you, I admire words and how even the simplest of thoughts can be strung together until their beauty shines brighter than the sum total of the words themselves.
I’ve come to love reading Mary Pipher - known widely for her courageous exploration of how fragile young girls can be in their journey to womanhood. Pipher is a psychotherapist with a poet’s heart.
Recently, I read a Mary Pipher book I enthusiastically recommend, Seeking Peace: Chronicles of the Worst Buddhist in the World. After Pipher experienced what some would call a mental breakdown triggered by her own wild success as an author, she had to retreat in order to save herself. Here’s a snippet from the last chapter of her story of recovery:
“At sixty, I am still ahead of the horses, as my grandfather used to say. But I am aware that I have only a finite number left of Thanksgivings, full moons or spring flowers. That realization makes me sad, but it also makes me notice. I don’t often squander much time or let beauty pass me by.
I heard recently that Japanese companies offer employees what is called heartache leave - days off after they break up with a partner. With a young person it is only one day; for older people, heartache leave is longer. At this stage of my life, every day is a kind of heartache leave. I am always losing someone or something I love.
But here are the gifts of this stage of life:Â A deep reverence for all living creatures. The realization I have been useful. The freedom to do as I please. The knowledge that I am loved. The acceptance of my place in time.
I do not fear death, but I hate to think of abandoning people who love me. I wish I could always be here to watch over my generations of family. I especially want to be part of my grandchildren’s lives as long as I can. I want to take them to see the Sandhill cranes, read them the books I loved as a girl, teach them the constellations and the names of butterflies. I want to give them what my grandmothers gave me - a deep sense that I was loved and understood …
Not all adults have grandchildren or find them fulfilling. The key to happiness is not so much grandchildren as it is Generativity. This was Erik Erikson’s term for a sense that our work will leave a good and useful legacy for the generations to come. Many people without children or grandchildren experience this through their professions, their avocations and their commitments to their communities. The fullness of life comes from an identity built on giving and on joy. This is the great trick at this stage in the life cycle - finding useful work that gives us pleasure.
I luxuriate in my life, and it will be hard to say good-bye. Yet death is the greatest democrat. In the end we are all equals. There is a comfort in knowing that I face what every human being who has ever lived faced in his or her time. I expect to return to the great commons where all our ancestors will be waiting to greet us. I predict that whatever comes after death will be better than I can possibly imagine …
All transformations are returns. After setting forth on a voyage of discovery, being chased by monsters, encountering great suffering and beauty, getting lost and being pummeled by storms, we find our way back to our original place and realize that the truth has always been there waiting for us. We connect with that which we knew before we were born. We can resume our ordinary lives with eyes unclouded by longing.”Â