Of Flow, and Ebb, and Terror

Last time I shared some excerpts from a favorite essay by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. Today I share a few 0f her thoughts from the same essay in Gift From the Sea on the subject of relationships.

 So beautiful is the still hour of the sea's withdrawal, as beautiful as the sea's return when encroaching waves pound up the beach, pressing to reach those dark rumpled chains of seaweed which mark the last high tide.

We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror its ebb. We are afraid it will never return. We insist on permanence, on duration, on continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity - in freedom, in the sense that dancers are free, barely touching as they pass, but partners in the same pattern. The only real security is not in owning or possessing, not in demanding or expecting, not in hoping even. Security in a relationship lies neither in looking back to what it was in nostalgia, nor forward to what it might be in dread or anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now.

These words humble and instruct me as I continue to foolishly attempt to resist the ebb and flow of my relationships, to keep the tide high upon the shore. I need to learn from Anne as my young adult children scatter around the world flying farther from me both physically and emotionally. I need to learn the art of living in the present with my dear husband, and with my step children whose emotional tides run very high and low. I need to learn to trust in the early morning when my terror that the tide will never return masks the truth like a fog upon the water.

"The Breathtaking Empty Space of An Open Door"

Yesterday I reread a short essay by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, from her wonderful book Gift from the Sea. It has spoken to me many times before, but each time I read it the words seem fresh, as if I am reading them for the first time. I am sharing parts of it with you today and next week. I hope you enjoy them too.
Beth

Is it not possible that middle age can be looked upon as a period of second flowering, second growth, even a kind of second adolescence? It is true that society in general does not help one accept this interpretation of the second half of life. And therefore this period of expanding is often tragically misunderstood...The signs that presage growth are so similar, it seems to me, to those in early adolescence: discontent, restlessness, doubt, despair, longing. But now these are interpreted falsely as signs of decay. In youth one does not as often misinterpret the signs: one accepts them, quite rightly, as growing pains. One takes them seriously, listens to the, follows where they lead. One is afraid. Naturally. Who is not afraid of pure space - the breathtaking empty space of an open door? ...

But in middle age, because of the false assumption that it is a period of decline, one interprets these life-signs, paradoxically, as signs of approaching death. Instead of facing them, one runs away, Anything, rather than face them. Anything rather than stand still and learn from them. One tries to cure the signs of growth: to exorcise them, as if they were devils, when really they might be angels of annunciation.

Angels of annunciation of what? Of a new stage in living when...one might be free for growth of mind, heart, talent; free at last for spiritual growth...