Eternal Longing....

I am an eternal optimist. I always have been. I believe in certain things. I believe things will always work out in the end. In fact I expect them to. I believe good things will happen for me, to me. I believe I deserve them. I believe wholeheartedly in someday.

Each morning I wake up knowing that the day's possibilities are endless, full of promise, full of new hope. I also know that if somehow today falls short of wonderful, tomorrow will be along soon and it might turn out just so. In fact it probably will.

Eternal optimism.

Eternal optimism lends itself to a little indulging in eternal longing. Longing, that wanting, that desire, that yearning for something one wishes for so deeply within their heart. That something I have always wanted, I have always hoped for yet somehow it has always been just beyond my fingertips, just beyond my reach.

I am not talking about a sort of lusty longing, something that might spring from a protracted affair with a frivolous notion. Or the longing for something a la mode, something everyone wants. Or the longing for something that glitters before ones eyes and is borne from an earthly desire.

No, the eternal longing in my mind is something quite different. The longing I have is for something real, something I know, something I've seen. Something I know to be true, something I know I can have, something I believe I will have.

It's not a romantic notion but visceral reality. It's real and I will optimistically wait for it. My longing will remain hovering blithely above, reminding me to be patient, reminding me to reach and to believe that one day it will be in my grasp. My longing pushes me forward with a tender momentum. Propels me to stay the course, believing, eternally, that my wish, my unrelenting wish, my heart's most precious desire is soon to be in my hands. To have and to hold...it will be mine.

Eternally optimistic am I.

Indeed.

Mirror, Mirror

Last week I wrote about some advice I received, good advice actually. I related a story of sage advice given me, advice to not spend life looking back in a proverbial rear view mirror, looking forward instead.

Of course having written that .... I've done nothing but look back all week. I'm honest if anything. I will also be the first to admit that I am full of advice but have a hard time taking my own sometimes. So I threw aside the advice and looked back. Looked long, looked hard and looked back.

I saw what I always do. Precisely the reason the priest told me not to keep looking. I saw what things have hurt me, what things have changed me, what things I wish I could forget.

A few comments about that blog made their way to me this week....reasons that looking back can be productive. One person suggested looking back was a way to learn from mistakes, learn from what went wrong. Another proposed that we have far too many good things to view in the rear view to completely ignore it. I do have so much in my life, so many good things to look back on, it's almost a sin to not acknowledge that. So I will agree, agree with both notions....a look back once in a while is a good thing.

I'm still stuck on what I see when I look back, however, the things I don't want to see. So I thought about it for a while, thought about what I see and why it bothers me. Who wants to remember being hurt, being lied to, being betrayed? Who wants to dwell on loss, mistakes made and opportunities squandered? Failures, regrets and disappointments? Certainly not me.

What to do? What to do?

In the end I decided to take that look.... but to look at myself....in that mirror. I can hold a mirror up to my face and see the person I am, see the person I have become. I can see the sum total of what has happened in my life to this point, good as well as bad. I can see the pleasure and I can see the pain. Most of all I can see that for all that's back there, all that has happened, I have stood up, dusted myself off and kept going. I can look in that mirror and let my eye wander to the background, let my eye wander to what's behind me. Then I can look at myself again, look at this wonderful work in progress and see that I am moving forward with my eyes focused on the road ahead.

Smiling to boot.

Indeed.

Rear View Mirrors

A number of years ago I was struggling with a personal matter and sought some advice from my Parrish Priest. He's roughly my age and very easy to talk to. We sat and he listened intently as I started to unfold my story for him. At issue was my trying to reconcile my faith against what was going on in my life. Simply put I wanted to know why bad things happened to good people.

After letting me go on...and on...and on....he said he wanted to share some very sage advice he received from someone at a personal crossroads of his own. He told me that I shouldn't live life looking through a rear view mirror. He told me that I needed to keep my eyes on the road I was traveling, looking ahead and not behind me. He said that if I kept on looking at what was behind me, I would not see what was in front of me and I might even go off of the road altogether. He said, finally, that there is nothing much behind a car on the road anyway. Nothing more than dust. Dust settles and what doesn't settle always blows away.

He's a wise man.

I was talking with a friend recently and I shared this story. After our conversation ended I sat and thought about how often I have mentioned my Priest's words to others, how often I have shared his advice. I also thought about how many times I did not take his words to heart, my own heart, continuing to frustrate myself in the process. I also thought about where I am right now and where my eyes are.

I am not looking in that rear view mirror now, no I am not. My eyes are fixed on the road ahead. They are focused, clear and intent. I see the road as it unfolds before me and when I am unsure of what to do, what direction to go, I do not look in the rear view mirror for guidance. I stand still. I stand still and watch the road ahead until I know which way to go.

And now, when I get the urge to look in that rear view mirror.... and I do get that urge... I think of my Priest's words. I think of that dust he said was there, that dust left behind me. The dust that eventually settles, eventually blows away. The dust I have left behind.

Left behind.

Indeed.

This Morning....

Children's poetry author, Eleanor Farjeon wrote the lyric to a beautiful song called, Morning Has Broken. It was recorded and released in 1971 by Cat Stevens on his album, Teaser and the Firecat. It has long been one of my favorite songs, a soothing one certainly. The lyric full of promise, full of hope for the day ahead. All of the darkness that had accumulated, all of the dread and conflict, all of the turmoil and trouble that had built up over the previous day....vanishes in this sweet, bright morning. Whatever thoughts roiled in sleep, haunted in dreams, is broken in the truest sense. If we allow it, if we choose.

Morning is new. It's a beginning. It's a start, a jumping off point. It's fresh and rife with possibilities. It's set out before us to do what we will. Whatever was there yesterday is gone. We make today what we will. If we choose.

Eleanor Farjeon wrote the lyric for children. It's lovely words penned to inspire, to soothe and encourage. I wonder if Ms. Farjeon ever imagined a woman fully grown, one who first listened to Cat Stevens' rendition of her work at thirteen and saw the possibilities. One who thirty seven years later still listens and now sees the promise. One who has embraced her words and made them her own.

It's a new day. Let's go live it.

Indeed.

Morning Has Broken

by Eleanor Farjeon

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word.

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass.

Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass.

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play.

Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day.