Good or bad. Right or wrong. True or false. It's this black and white thinking that disallows any real peace. It's unrealistic, idealistic and, sometimes, just plain juvenile. How can we find the grey in all that black and white without compromising our integrity or relinquishing our sanity?
My first instinct when events are not to my liking is to cry out, "That's not fair!" I wonder where I got the notion that life was fair to being with. It isn't. It's not supposed to be. But I can tell you this: I lived over three decades believing it was a fact of life. And I've spent nearly that long knowing it not to be and still fighting the inevitable truth. Yes, it has gotten a little better. It isn't the first thing I think any more. But the statement still crosses my mind more often than I care to admit.
If life isn't fair and it is not supposed to be, what I would like to know is why I wasn't informed long before I was. In and of itself, that isn't fair. I have said for years that when I was born someone forgot to give me the instruction sheet for living my life. So I've had to discover the pieces and paste them together like a collage. All too many of the pieces are still in the wind, yet most of the time I am on even footing. But every now and then, I get blindsided and once again I am five years old, crying out in the darkness.
Life won't bend to my rules. I have learned that in a most undignified way more than once. But being reduced from ?? years old (never mind, you don't need to know that) to five is most disconcerting. It is especially embarrassing when it is in the presence of others. But whereas life is lacking, it also has its overflow point. I have learned to recognize those times when I am five and acting out. As a friend once told me, "The good news is that you are now aware."
I didn't appreciate that statement then. It's because I didn't fully understand it. I won't insult you or embarrass myself by saying I've got it down pat now either. I will say, however, that the awareness comes quicker and without much resistance. The black fades to grey and the white darkens in response to it. It levels out and allows me to retain some semblance of sanity and dignity.
I am dangerously close to that second childhood that old age promises. I really don't want to push the envelope.
