Alive

Night falls with a graceless thud, a resounding full stop punctuating an emphatic end to an equally graceless day. Darkness falls with it, a blackness filling the room, meant to beckon rest that will not come. Sleep, a taunting bully lurking in the shadows of my restless mind, plays hide and seek with the incoherent multitude of unintelligible thoughts clamoring for attention inside my head.

I can't think.

I can't not think.

So I close my eyes, and drift into the shadowy no man's land nestled between suspended consciousness and wakefulness, neither fully here nor wholly there.

From this unfathomable depth, shrouded in a soft, shimmering mist, a warm breeze billowing the edges of my gauzy dreamlike state, vague awareness looms. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, clarity. Revealing that everything I'd long believed lost or missing from my life is near at hand, surrounding me, exposed. So close, the tastes of all of it linger on my lips, the sounds echo in my ears. So close, I am afraid to reach out to touch the elusiveness of it. I stand still, movement possible, but seemingly unnecessary, superfluous.

Everything I ever wanted is being handed to me where I stand.

But everything I accept into my shaking hands is weightless, shapeless. All that I imagined to be meaning and fulfillment, great piles of wishes, longings, wants, desires, are carefully balanced in my outstretched arms. Still, there is no burden, no end to my capacity to hold or to carry all of it and then some, until the unbearable lightness haunts me.

Everything I've taken, and all that I am holding, is empty. And all at once I know.

I know life is not lived when spent wasted on waiting for it to be doled out, as if there is no will involved. I know life is not lived when we allow it to be defined by someone else's expectation of what the one we lead should look like. I know life is not lived when fear obviates choice. I know life is not lived when the capacity for change is buried far beneath the complacency of blame. 

The meaning of life is in the pursuit of it. It's in the longing, the struggle, the dreaming of dreams. It's in the constant discovery and continual evolution of what we want, in the appreciation for the value of what we already have. It's in the learning, and in the process; it's in the losses and the gains.

It's in the realization that our expectations must be high, and in the understanding that we won't always reach them. It's in the satisfaction of honest effort, in the thrill of risking failure, and in the celebration when we achieve. It's in the strength to accept defeat, and in the grace to accept success. It's in the will to accept responsibility for ourselves, and in the benevolence to accept weakness in others.

It's in the power of having choices to determine our path, and in the strength to choose. It's in having the character to confront the inevitable bumps in the road and the detours, uncowed; still and always moving forward, reaching upward.

It's in broadening our minds to accommodate uncomfortable, difficult ideas.

It's in unburdening our souls to absorb the wonders of the world around us.

It's in opening our hearts to its vast ability to love, despite the pain of it, because the glory of it is what makes everything else worthwhile.

The meaning of life is not in always being sure of where you're going, but rather in never failing to appreciate the journey.

Daybreak dawns, washing away streaks of darkness, the final remnants of an unquiet night. The shadows of a restless mind disappear in the boldly stroked illumination of morning, replaced with the bright calm of peace, and the glowing, gentle simmer of determination.

I'm not sure I ever slept.

But I know that I woke up.

Alive.

Comments

[Jen]

OtherJen, in fact, did not read this until today.

"It's in the realization that our expectations must be high, and in the understanding that we won't always reach them. It's in the satisfaction of honest effort, in the thrill of risking failure, and in the celebration when we achieve. It's in the strength to accept defeat, and in the grace to accept success. It's in the will to accept responsibility for ourselves, and in the benevolence to accept weakness in others."

And, in fact, at this very moment, on this very day, I was being written up by the military during basic training for receiving a cell phone call.

The only one I received on my 37th birthday. In hell.

It was worth every moment of it.

[frananna]

Jen, Someone summed it up well when they said your writing is like poetry. I love it.

[frananna]

Jen, Someone summed it up well when they said your writing is like poetry. I love it.

[Billy The Blogging Poet]

Dear, I am impressed to say the least. And the thing about the blind squir... Well it just didn't work the way I planned.

[Laurie]

Now it is above my work area. Thank you.

[Laurie]

I hope that this was one of the samples you sent. It blew me away.

[RP]

Whoa. That was like a smack upside the head. Especially right now for me, considering what's going on with my grandfather, as you know.

You are going to have so much fun teaching those other people how to write at that writers' conference you're going to.

[VM on the DL]

Thanks for this, Jen. It was just what I needed to read right now. Exactly.

[kenju]

Jennifer, you were really lucky to get not only dated photos but written text with them! I was left with boxes of old photos and nothing else. I got some from my mom and dad, my aunt and my grandmother - and so many of them are unknowns.

[RisibleGirl]

Wow. Your writing is pure poetry. That needs to be a speech given somewhere. Seriously.

Thank you.

PS- I love your new header!

[shelby]

Amen, sister.

[Lujza]

"Wow"...that's all I can say.

[poopie]

S'what I needed, that's for sure. Thanks Jen.

[kenju]

I am speechless (which is a once in a lifetime occasion).
Is this " Maturity 101"? Wonderful, is all I can say.

[Jennifer]

Reading or not, OtherJen inspired me. Which is hardly unusual, if you know what I mean.

[Vanessa]

Great. OtherJen, are you reading?