Christmas
The High is the Ride
Oh Gawd, it’s that time of year
again. One Christmas my son gave me tennis shoes with
bright neon side panels and a pump up arch. The next
Christmas he gave me bar bells, turquoise colored bar
bells, graduating in size and weight. The kind you
can’t miss when walking into your room at night.
The kind that ominously make tsk-tsk sounds and project
guilt from their matching stand. When he gave them
to me I sat in the warm glow of the tree, with all
family eyes upon me as the bright red bow and metallic
green wrap fell away. I unveiled my prize and agonizingly
pulled and strained the muscles of my cheeks up, up
in an effort to smile. Teeth showing. Lips wide. The
bar bells got sent to my bedroom as the last guest
left that day, and not a muscle has been strained or
pulled higher than my ankle to remove them from their
stand since Christmas two years ago.
My son is a surfer. He is buffed out and thirty-something. He has not yet come
to appreciate that I too am an athlete. I too am a surfer. Agile. Daring. He
surfs the ocean and I surf the crests and troughs of life. Up. Down. High points.
Low points. Tenuously balanced, shifting my weight and awareness, poised and
awaiting the next big wave. We are both seeking independence, freedom, the joy
of balance. We are both hoping that we will not wipe out and die. The thrill
and the danger are the same.
Achieving balance is easier said than done. It is tricky! The more you embrace
life, become involved and present to all the possibilities - the higher the highs
and subsequently, the lower the lows. When you decide to take on the most challenging
surf - you will no doubt get a more exciting ride. Eventually, as you ride in
the middle of each life experience, you become aware of the polarities that wash
you from one extreme to another.
The more I acknowledge the places I am little,
the greater I become.
The more I achieve success, the more I fear failure.
The more I long for distinction, the more I must be humble to truly be it.
The more I acknowledge evil, the more I overlook good.
The more I hold on to ecstasy, the more I resist the pain.
The more I seek independence the more I am in the state of dependence upon being
independent.
The more I seek Spirit outside myself, the more I loose my awareness of It within. |
In the time it takes to inhale a single
deep breath, I can be washed from one wave to the other.
In my son's
vast ocean, the waves are not separate from the ocean
itself. I too am forever riding two ends of the same
continuum. Not two separate ideals or realities. Not
two things wholly different, but rather two ends held
captive by the stream of life.
I want balance. However, no sooner am I immersed in the joy of helping to birth
my grandchild, than the news arrives that my beloved aunt has died. She died
just before I could arrange a long promised trip to be with her in Florida.
I am again caught up between two ends of the continuum. Hello and good bye.
Departure and arrival. Loss of love and new love.
In the last few years, relationships of every kind have become my finest workout,
the ultimate trainer. Clients move swiftly from hating me to liking me, from
thinking I am a charlatan to thinking I am a mentor. Deftly, I try to remain
balanced during our pilgrimage together, not attached to what they feel about
me, but only what they learn for themselves. My ego wants to be gratified,
my spirit knows their journey could take place in any quiet holding space because
it is their journey and not mine. The woman in me wants to pack and go sit
on a beach in Maui. The final reality: I am the visitor on their path, the
guest at their unfolding.
Friends move in and out of my intimate circle of extended family. Some I have
grown out of, some have grown out of me. It is all Spiritually correct, all
part of the same wave called life.
My children quickly move from wanting a mom, to wanting a friend, to wanting
a silent listening ear with no input at all. And just as quickly I must be
able to pull from my Mom bag all that I know, tuck gently back into my Mom
bag the knowing that I know, or move into admitting that I really don’t
know or don’t need to know.
In my personal relationships, this ride on the tension of life is at its best.
I am forever face to face with letting go of my need for the safety of sameness
and upholding my love of diversity. I eat health food, they like junk. I go
to sleep late, they go to sleep early. I take homeopathics, They down Nyquil.
There is no justice, not even in old age. It is this tension of embracing life
fully that creates the excitement - the element that provides the drive. Life
is an on-going challenge, and perhaps balance resides somewhere in the willingness
to just get up and ride the waves. And I ride.
When he is fifty-something like me, my son will bring me medals for Christmas.
By then, he will have earned some of his own.
Recovering Together
December 1999
Dr. Dina Evan
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