The Hard Truths

I have been considering what is like to be growing old in the manner that I am. In many ways, I am in total celebration of my life now, for I could never have imagined such a robust sense of myself. I repeat myself when I say that gratitude is my dominate emotion.

Yet, my passage has been a relentless confrontation with one hard truth after another, each one the price of admission to the next. And these truths are hard basically because they destroy the stories I have wrapped myself in.

One might ask why I would keep on with this madness. There is only one answer as far as I am concerned, and it is this: This madness leads to a honest existence, an examined life. The life I lived previous to this voyage was anything but honest, even if it seemed harmless. But it was not harmless, and I have a lot of grief about this.

Displaced memories and stiffened body fascia harbour the grief of my life, and I am chasing them down, exposing every last little un-truth. I know what honesty tastes like now, and I won’t give up.

This voyage has me well-positioned to confront the hard truths of my life as I carry on. I trust myself now, for the first time in my life, and it feels very good.

Grace and gratitude, a hard combination to beat.

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