Time is ever-present in these human minds of ours: age, looking forward, looking back, seasons, parents, children, cultural and political shifts, the world as we knew it, know it and envision it to become.
I remember my dad, telling me that when he went to his sixtieth college reunion, he stood and looked at the history building which he had adored, and he looked at it, looked at his feet, looked at it, looked at his feet and then he laughed out loud and said “Can this be I? Am I really eighty-two? I don’t feel any different than I did when I was here!”
This is one of the great lessons—that we really are still, every moment of our lives, the very same person that we were when we first arrived! When first delighted by a bubble floating in the air, or climbing to the tippy top peak of a tree, whoopdeedooo-ing and then getting stuck, or blowing out candles on a birthday cake and dreamily licking the frosting off of each one, or falling in love, breaking our hearts, saying good-bye to friends who pass on, and then reaching the point where our disappointments line up as heftily as our joys and sometimes we feel as if they were taking too much of a front row seat. We are also the same person who has endured, and grown and flown, and through our moment-to-moment choices to either ride the wave or be swept under, has written a personal saga, up there in the ether, that is stunningly rich and vibrant and worthy of angel wings.
Sometimes, in all of this earthly travel, we forget the simplest, earliest joys which connected us to the wonder and innocence that we inherited as fresh, new beings.
Yes, we are the same person as we were when we began, and we are also each a miraculous morphing version of that self with shining scars and expanded world views and deep knowings.
Oh! What is that? Ah, yes! Come! Let’s go blow bubbles and watch them float and light on flower petals and burst in the sunshine… right now!