…how do we get into this? And to be immediately clear, “this” refers to telling your life story.
About four months ago I had an errand to run in Boston and I took that as an opportunity to turn the day into one of my walk-about days.
I could have driven in and fought traffic and pushed my nervous system towards a condition red, what with the vigilance needed to get there safely, block out all the sirens, protect my ears from the jackhammers, and what have you. Easy adaptation – ride the commuter train for an hour and walk here and there following my own familiar pathway.
First stop; disembark at Back Bay Station and limber up with a brisk walk through the mall and see what conferences are taking place at the Westin Copley Place. A few were just starting. Many people still milling around. I walked into one (something about proteins) and picked up a free pen and some notepad paper for jotting down thoughts during the day.
Large rectangular room, about seventy-five attendees towards the front, and a significant audio-visual setup. I was standing at the back of the room. The “visuals” were professionally designed colorful slides with scatter graphs, many colors, and small words. The presenter behind the podium was using his laser pointer and talking into the microphone. I couldn’t make out a single word. Nothing there that was going to pull me any further into the room or into the detail of his presentation.
And then, out of the blue, an easy pop fly came right at me. The label on the ball was “… and the challenge here is…” It came easily and without fanfare, but loud and clear. Not really loud – just a bit louder – or so I thought.
The message was there for me to catch. It was unexpected. It had no special relevance except that it was the first significant thing I heard that day.
Well actually, it had tremendous relevance because that was the question that I needed to hear. Let me complete that statement: the first part was the challenge, and the second part was the actual task. The challenge for the presenter is to discover how to present the mass of research data he had to the audience in a way that stayed on topic and developed the material around his question towards his goal. Parenthetically I will add that perhaps the clarity of the question delivered with increased focus and volume was part of his delivery strategy to make sure the audience did not nod off into the world of endless detail.
But my sense, right then and right there, was that it was meant for my ears. The challenge for me – for everyone at some point in their life – is how to present their story. How to present it in a way that hints at wholeness and doesn’t get lost in fragmentation.
How to find my voice, your voice? Then the questions came. How to talk about the experiences and how to deliver the stories? Which stories? Those which have personal significance, and which speak directly and authentically to whoever hears the part of the story they need to hear.
And just how do we do that, you ask? We do it by following the first law of how to “get into it,” which is: “Getting into it.”
So here we go! The plan, at least for now, is to present stories and experiences that are part of my journal about Being Into The Journey. That’s where I save my endless notes of thoughts and experiences accumulated over time. That Journal has become one of the guardians of those experiences which have captured my attention in significant ways. The most significant are those which have a direct impact on my life.
They don’t have to be earth-moving experiences, but on reflection and recollection, they have a power almost all their own to move and stir the Center. On further reflection, and this is more important, they have helped me to describe myself as a “late bloomer,” one who openly claims that I am “late to life.” It has been a long and windy road, but I am here, and I give thanks for that also on a daily basis.
There is another part here. One of the most ongoing important parts of my journey centers around what I am now referring to as a very gradual waking up to, and welcoming of Life itself. That is why I am saying and naming my experience now as: “late to life.” It seems that so many of those experiences fall into clusters. For example, how I got off track earlier in my life, how I drifted in that realm for decades – that’s not to say that I didn’t have “outside” accomplishments – how that turned around, and what the impact of it all has been on the experience of and being in the Journey – so far.
I suspect there may be many other late-to-lifers out there. Some of us just need more time, eh? But for sure it is not just a question of more time. It’s also the good fortune to catch that fly ball, to “read” it well, to follow the signs, to stay at it, to get back to it, and to follow its own path.
To be clear, I am a private person. The details of my personal experiences, the actual personal content of them, remain mine and they will remain mine. In that sense, this is not a public memoir and it certainly is not a travelogue of “this happened and then that happened.” But the further part of this telling and describing is to share one more story, to toss my hat into the ring.
Why would I do that? It’s not for me, although I will learn and grow from this sharing. It is for anyone and everyone else who may benefit from this one-more-story. My wish is that it helps them – you, on your journey.
Are there not enough stories out there already? Yes, there are, but the sense I have here is to present these stories and experiences in the context of a person who is coming to pull it together later in life. Without a doubt, there are a number of reasons why it takes so long for some. But the specific which I am picking up on here and now is the added protective shroud of secrecy that surrounds the pattern of postponed development.
I have my thoughts about that for sure, and I am interested to hear what others who are experiencing this think about it also. It is important because it will offer a solid clue as to how it is perpetuated and thus postponed further.
I’ll end this for now with a synchronicity that happened to me today. I was listening to a 1980 audio rendition of a prolonged dialogue between J. Krishnamurti and David Bohm that took place in 1980. Both were very accomplished people in their respective areas of expertise.
The opening words were:
Krishnamurti: “Where are we going to sit? … So how should we start this?”
Bohm: “You said you had something to say.”
Krishnamurti: “I have lots of things,” he said testily, “but I don’t know how to start it.”
Interesting how that same theme resonates across time and naturally pops up when a person is embarking on a focused endeavor.
One final note for now. I wonder how many other “quiet pop-ups” come our way during our lifetime. How they present themselves. How we disregard them, or how we attend to them. For example, “here comes another one: and if not now, when?”
Comments are always welcome.
