Joy of the Journey

Saturday Uncle Scott played with baby Giulia, age one-and-a-half, tossing her up in the air and catching her again. She chortled and squealed, delighted. As she left the safe grip of his hands sailing up, her arms and legs spread-eagled as if by reflex, then came that physically experienced instant of weightlessness at apogee, and the fall back into his hands. Watching her, observing her carefree glee, I saw not the least trace of fear. She had no inkling of the possibility that she might not be caught and safely held.

Watching, I thought of how we are brought from the elements of the earth and into this form, into this life. We rise through early years, break free into adulthood, reach apogee, and begin the fall into old age and back to earth again. It is the natural progression.

Every life trajectory includes enough physical and emotional pain from which no one can shield us so that in the ordinary course of events we each lose that unquestioning confidence of safety. We experience hunger, physical hurts, mean-spiritedness, loneliness, betrayal, anger welling up from within us, anger of others directed toward us, greed. We learn caution and a certain skepticism.

Yet in the larger scheme, why fear? We rise from the arms of earth, and will return there again, safely caught. Why should the journey of a natural life, beginning through end, be any less joy inspiring than the flight of a small child being tossed in the air and caught again? How can we imagine that possibly we will not be caught again by earth? How do we lose sight of the full, complete trajectory and the rightness of the journey? For myself, I seek to let go my learned fear and renew that joy of the journey, confident that I will, indeed, be safely caught at the end of my fall.

Here we are again, come to the longest night of the year. The day hours were overcast and rainy, as well. I am thankful for Christmas lights, and for the multiple creature comforts of my quiet life.