My initial impression is that what I reveal, though personal to me, is going to end up being terribly ordinary. Sorry, folks. Probably no mystery here. I'm sure my words will mirror exactly what countless others have thought and felt throughout the whole of eternity.
My searches are nothing new, as well. Being a middle-aged single woman, I search for who I am. I am at a cusp in my life; since I've hit forty, I've become a different animal than who I was in my twenties. I still look out of my eyes with the heart of a twenty year old, but my body isn't the same. I've become broken. With Rheumatoid Arthritis, I can't do what I used to do. I used to be strong; not anymore. What others take for granted is a chore for me, like opening up a water bottle. My hands are no longer strong enough to twist the cap off without assistance. I have seriously grappled with the profound discovery of my own aging and mortality. Where did the young girl who used to be me go?
My RA has been, however, an amazing teacher. Who am I, really? I used to be a beautiful young heartbreaker, free and easy to love. That was my identity. Sure, I was smart. I could banter well in conversation. I knew a few things. But as I age, as I am forced to gaze unflinchingly at my brokenness, that whole identity has snapped and fallen away. I get fuzzy in my thoughts now. I'm not nearly as smart as I used to think I was. Physically, my body is SO NOT as perfect as it had been. I'm suddenly...vulnerable. When did that happen? When did I become old and unwanted? And what is left in it's place?
This is the revelation of my harsh teacher: every day I look deeper at myself to see where else I can be considered strong and useful. I learn compassion as I am forced to be compassionate for me. I understand the limits of others as I press firmly into mine. I still rage against this process in my soul; however, with hands bound, I am pulled evermore to my knees in order to learn obedience to Spirit and surrender. They are bitter pills, but somehow, they give nourishment in the long run.
This is part of my quest. What IS left of me, and what have I found in place of what I've lost? Am I useless now, or as I surrender do I find new gifts? As a woman, do I no longer exist, or can I still be lovable and sexy with what I've gained? Is the improved ability to love and be loyal valid currency against ruthless beauty with no intention of settling down? And is useless trivial knowledge and banter truly insignificant when compared to the deeper understanding of life and spirit gleaned from actually hacking out a path through the wilderness of living?
So, my search is for me and my connection to Spirit. Is that too much to ask? Or have I just become, in my sad old age, Weird Psycho Internet Chick?
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