A few times in my adult life, I called my parent’s house completely broken by a situation. One occasion was when my son was hospitalized on the night before his first birthday. He was diagnosed with staphylococcus pneumonia. His condition deteriorated rapidly and we rushed him to the hospital. I was scared.
I called ‘home’ and my dad answered. Back in the day, there were no cell phones. I was using a pay phone to make a collect call. Remember those days? You had no idea which parent would answer the phone. You didn’t have to choose which one to call on their cell phone. My dad answered. I mostly cried and then he told me what he always told me, “Everything will be okay, dear.”
There were a few other times when he made the same pronouncement. “Everything will be okay, dear.” I always felt like my tears made him uncomfortable. I heard those words as his attempt to calm me. They felt like he was grasping for hope. I assumed that because he wasn’t a religious man he couldn’t default to something like, ‘We will be praying for you.” So, he told me everything would be okay.
I remember feeling frustrated with him. How did he know everything would be okay? And many times it didn’t seem that things were okay. Hard things happened despite his assurances that everything would be fine. His words sounded hollow to me. They didn’t bring me much comfort.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about my life and everything I have experienced from a different perspective. Some of the most difficult things I’ve endured have shaped me and been the catalyst for me to follow the path I have walked. The hard times changed me in ways that ease couldn’t. I see things as a lot more nuanced now.
This morning, I was reading The Making of an Old Soul: Aging as the Fulfillment of Life’s Promise by Carol Orsborn. She writes, “Conscious Aging is the developmental stage that allows you to come to understand that letting yourself be cracked to the core represents not only an abject state of giving up but the beginning of retrieval, rectification and healing. Central to the making of old souls is this summons to awaken from collusion with our shadows and face them head-on. When everything falls apart, that is where we are most able to make significant changes in our lives.”
I recently had an experience that felt a lot like being cracked to the core. On the surface, it didn’t look like anything significant had happened but emotionally and spiritually I was shaken. It prompted me to reflect on something that I thought had healed. (And it had healed to some degree.) But as Orsborn writes, “The primal wound—fear of separation, of abandonment, of betrayal—gets triggered over and over again.”
Those of you doing the spiritual work to be wise elders in your community have no doubt experienced your version of what I described. You think you’ve got everything figured out and suddenly something happens and you realize you still have work to do. It’s been a grace to have an area where I am still holding on to control illuminated so I can release it and find deeper healing.
The Serenity Prayer has been helpful: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.”
As far as I can see, life-long learning extends beyond formal education. I understand the work of conscious aging as reframing aging, reclaiming your story, releasing your baggage and reimagining your third act. I’m deep into designing my Soul-Centred Aging Retreat exploring those four themes. (It sold out fast and I’m planning an online version in January.)
It’s been an interesting few weeks confronting something I thought I had dealt with and risen above. I know it is already informing the work I am doing. It’s taken me a while but I finally see the comfort and wisdom in my dad’s comment. “Everything will be okay, dear.”
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