Our Delusional Past

 Things were not really better long ago.  What happens as we try to come to terms with our pasts is that we see our lives as a process of continual disenchantment.  The cumulative burdens of our imperfect lives are harder to bear as we weaken in body and spirit.  Our yearning for the past is fueled by a selective memory of our younger selves.  Memory is not, as many of us think, an accurate transcription of past experience.  Rather it is a story we tell ourselves about the past, full of distortions, wishful thinking, and unfulfilled dreams.   People see themselves differently in the present, and as a result, they have different narratives of how they got there.  If you don't believe this compare your memory of some past events with someone else who was there.  It can be jarring how different the recollections can be

"To know someone fully  and love them in spite of, even because of, their imperfections is an act that requires  us to recognize and forgive, two very important indicators of emotional maturity.  More important is the fact that, if we can do this for other people, we may be able to do it for ourselves.  My constant challenge isn't to seek perfection in myself and, more importantly, in others, but to find a way to be happy in an imperfect world."

There's a woman who is a regular at my home group.  I've always liked her but kept my distance because - like me - she is wound way too tight.  Waaaaaayyyyy too tight.  When I talked to her I felt like I was being cross-examined by a semi-hostile prosecutor.  She was always taking notes and asking for clarification on something I had shared.  At 8 in the morning it was too much.  Waaaaaayyyyy too much.  I identified so closely with her sense of purpose and her drive to accomplish a lot and get a lot done while almost always feeling that her efforts weren't enough.  It can be frustrating to end the day suspicious that more could have been done even though a lot of people comment on how much I've done.  My self-fulfilling prophecy of doom.

After the meeting a while back she came over and said: "You know, Seaweed, I've really come to love you . . . "  A couple of people who overheard her laughed out loud - it sounded like she was implying that she could stand me up to that point.  Eh, maybe she did, who knows?  I didn't take it that way.  I believe that love comes in all kinds of forms and fashions; it can come quickly and it can take forever; it can be deeper or more casual; it can stand the test of time and it can ebb away; it's all valid in our imperfect world.  I took it as a great compliment.  It's all good.