I'm searching, unsuccessfully, for my glasses tonight. I'm sure at some point they will show up. In my quest for vision, I started opening unlikely drawers in desperation.
The search led me to a small three- ringed- binder in which I kept my most personal and honest thoughts during the early '90's. It was way before blogging, and long after the cool diary with the little key I had as a child.
I completely forgot about my glasses; I poured myself a glass of wine and began to read. And now I have so many thoughts. Not so much about the content. Even though I know I wrote it, it feels as if I'm reading about someone else's life.
At the time I wrote this journal my life was in crisis. And now, almost twenty years later, I don't remember the anguish I was feeling. That amazes me.
And yet my reflections from then are still relevant:
"Time doesn't heal all wounds. It only allows the gaps in between to grow longer."
Wow. How true. And how odd I don't remember writing about that. And why didn't I remember that when true loss hit last year?
Bit what I'm really thinking about is the resiliency of the human condition for most people.
How do we essentially forget or put away the pain and hurt we've endured? It is the question of suffering throughout time.
Obviously at the time I was in great pain and was using my journal as a way to work through that pain.And yet, I read it tonight with just a vague recollection of being the author.
Perhaps it is a natural self- protection. One cannot live in the present or build a future without putting the past to rest.
Maybe being able to "forget" and move forward is the result of grace.
I don't have the answer.
But I'm still amazed at this life as I ...
Continue the journey.
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