The Reckoning

The Reckoning

In my late thirties I experienced an early mid-life crisis. It's fairly well documented on this blog, especially in the Project Home & Healing collection of posts.

During and after that crisis in our family life, marriage, and faith I went through what I've called The Reckoning. The Reckoning started during the crisis but was more the aftermath, the fallout from the crisis. It was a sense of regret, loss, and failure.

At the same time our kids were going through their teens years and yikes, what parent of teenager doesn't experience these emotions?

My Reckoning is a coming to terms, as much as is possible, with the decisions made earlier in my adult life. How those formed me, and inform my life now. And how so much of my life is out of my control and that my decisions will not yield what I expect.

This is a hard lesson to learn.

This series of posts, written and published over a couple years time span, explore this experience.

But I need to tell you upfront that I went into this writing with a bias. A bias I carry from my faith tradition, personal experience, and the perennial wisdom of humanity.

Experiences of loss, regret and failure are the very soil, the compost, the rich earth of dead and dying matter that makes all things new again. A resurrecting soil, out of which new life and abundance grows, once again.

I already know the conclusion and I'm working to make it a reality in my living and my writing.


The purpose and ultimate irony of desire (The mountains are calling)

The purpose and ultimate irony of desire (The mountains are calling)

One of the hardest parts of growing up has been realizing we don't achieve our desires. At least not the way we think we will. The joy comes not in attaining what we desire, but in giving ourselves to the cause, the aim, the goal. Circling the desire, but never reaching it.

Can we trust our desires? (The mountains are calling)

Can we trust our desires? (The mountains are calling)

Acting on desire is how we make decisions in our life. It's how we choose, to the extent we can, the path we want to take. But how do we know we can trust our desires?

The loopy trail that is our lives (The mountains are calling)

The loopy trail that is our lives (The mountains are calling)

If I had known, in my early twenties that I was a mountain girl I would have never moved east. I would have gone west.

Softer, older, rounder (The mountains are calling)

Softer, older, rounder (The mountains are calling)

I associated the mountains with summer vacation. It wasn't a place you lived, despite the obvious evidence of locals, it was a place you visited.

A late summer rain

A late summer rain

They'll choose, and are choosing, their own path as adults. But we chose their childhoods, in the same way every parent does.

The losses we reckon with

The losses we reckon with

Not going to my grandma's funeral was painful. It was a loss to not be with my family during the remembering and celebrating of Grandma's life. Feeling shame, second-guessing my every decision, running down all "what if?" trails of my life doesn't help matters.

Did I really say that?

Did I really say that?

A big part of The Reckoning for me is realizing I'm not exempt from the natural order of growth and development. I'm not a special snowflake. I don't get to by-pass the necessary parts of the journey because I'm a good planner. It doesn't work that way.