Over the edge

Over the edge

Over the edge


I often think about my childhood, and my memories go way back. I even have some recollections of being an infant, very mundane of course. One of my first is me trying to push a baby bottle filled with apple juice away out of my mouth, and my mother pushing it back in; I was stubborn from the beginning I think. It was one of those old fashioned baby bottles, glass, and how I hated the taste of apple juice, to this day not much of a fan. I have no idea why some memories seem to stay close to the surface while others disappear. Many of the events I can recall where not traumatic in any way, while others of course where, which caused a deep change in me. I suppose that some very deep traumatic episodes are completely buried for my own protection, well perhaps, for I don’t know, for hidden is hidden, won’t know till they surface. Of course over the years some have. For no matter how much I remember, there is much that I do not. I guess most of our days or consigned to oblivion, a good thing, for what would we do with all those memories. Being able to forget can be a blessing. Repression has its reasons, and when the time is right, perhaps some memories will arise to give us greater insight.

The older I get, the less I seem to know and understand about myself; for the deeper I go the less free I at times feel myself to be. I have some insight into some of my problems; the operative word here is ‘some’. While this is helpful, it still does not take away from some interior struggling to keep myself in balance. Of course I guess it is good to be dealing with pretty much the same things, even if at times I don’t fully understand the whys of it all. I think it would be very difficult to have to deal with some new kind of interior problem every week; the thought itself exhaust me.

When I do achieve a break through in my life, it seems to happen in spite of myself. It is like I spend a lot of time pounding my head or hands against a wall, then give up, just sit down, and suddenly without my even knowing it, I am on the other side. There must be processes that go on in us that are deep and cannot be directly observed, just the fruit of their activity experienced when it happens. Perhaps the struggling, failing, getting up are just ways to distract us from the deeper work that goes on. Jung states that the soul constantly moves towards integration, health, balance. I suppose a Christian way to state the same thing is it is grace at work. Perhaps life and grace are tightly woven together to make a tapestry out of both the inner and outer events of life.

I have cycles that I can’t seem to break; they seem to be part of my life that is important, even if at times I see only chaos and my own inadequacies, which are many. Yet I persist, what else can I do? Give up? Yeah right! I can’t think of anything more lame than giving up. Even if I am treading at times, it is better than sinking, for as long as there is life, there is hope. Even if I do sink, which could happen, it is a common occurrence, yet even then there is hope. Perhaps the struggle is not so much overcoming the inner chaos, but in simply not despairing. It seems that the falling and rising is the normal growth pattern for most of us humans, though I guess there are exceptions; I guess they are the saints, but even then I don’t know. Most struggles are interior, for we are inward creatures, subjective, with great depth even if at times that depth is buried in outward concerns and yes our inner turmoil.

We pass each other all the time; in airports, trains, at work, in malls, and yes in our cars. It is easy to forget that each one we pass has a deep inner universe filled with joy and yes sorrow, pain and chaos……and more often than not, the simple task, again often hidden, of just trying to get through the day without doing any damage to oneself or others. Random acts of kindness can be a great help to those around us, for they are often thought out, consciously acted upon, and based on true compassion. Random acts of cruelty are a different matter entirely. For they are often reactions, not thought out at all, not malicious, but none the less can be very harmful for those who are victim to them, as well as for the one who commits such acts. I suppose little acts, whether they are kind or cruel, can either heal or help to push someone over the edge. Life has a way of getting to us at times, so I think it is a good practice to be conscious of what mood one is having, so has not to be controlled by it.

Sometimes people do go over the edge, lose it, blow up, lash out, or withdraw inward into a dark bleak world of depression. I think it is good to have compassion on ourselves and others, especially when they sink for a time, I course some sink for good, and take others with them. The newspapers are filled with such stories. Yes we all have a hard journey. Such is life and we each have to find some way to make sense to it all. Even if we can find a way to deal with life, through faith for instance, it still will not make much sense for many. It often does not for me. There seems to be so much absurdity in life; chance, random events, or just plain luck at times seems to rule the day. Yet without that perhaps freedom of any sort would be impossible. For our lives do turn on a dime. Many each day find that out. We impose a certain order on our lives, a good thing, yet in the end the order is an illusion, for there are many kinds’ earthquakes, sudden happenings that change everything forever. What we thought was permanent is shown for what it is, a comforting, necessary illusion, so that we can simply live. I don’t think this outlook takes away from faith in any way, for me it only deepens it.

I am not sure I need answers any more, well perhaps I do; I am just getting more comfortable with living in a world where in spite of it all, most people seem to move forward. Those who don’t, well perhaps I am wrong in that, I misjudge. For paradox is also present in life, constantly turning over what we think is true, to see things on a slightly deeper level. I think however as I get older, I seem to have more faith in the simple process that we are all going through, that we are here for reasons we do not yet understand or comprehend.

As St. Paul says, “In Him we live and move and have our being”, there is no separation with God, we are one, God journeys with us in the dark night. Infinite love is not human love; it can be felt as harsh, cruel, when in fact it is not that at all. We are pilgrims, on a journey, and perhaps it is best to understand that we are on a fast train hurdling to our destination, and that train is time. Clinging is useless, best to let go, and in that final letting go hopefully it will not be so difficult. Little deaths along the way, some larger than others….. perhaps practice for the time that awaits us all; the stepping through the dark door, something it seems we all do alone, at least from this side of the exit.

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