Despite all of our sincerest feelings about it, decay always precedes rebirth. We all crave newness on some level. The human urge for novelty, exploration, surprise… it’s biological. Balanced there with our need for security and stability, the harmony of these two forces keeps us going and even thriving. So, why the tension?
Lately, I’m thinking of the ways we need to make peace with the phase of loss, shedding, decay and its related grief before the new may Truly Arise. I think we can all concur, that some things remain eternal while others can rejuvenate and refresh in absolutely surprising ways. Just look back at a baby picture in a baby book or photo frame. There is you. All distantly, almost unrecognizable and babylike - but then, it’s that same little smile, or the same inner spunk or the day-dreamer quality, or whatever defines your eternal. We are fundamentally ourselves, and yet we can change wildly.
As we reach adulthood, the cycles of renewal become more internal and interconnected. Of course, that era with the funny haircut and the space between the teeth is fleeting. So obvious, is its passing. But even with our bodies fully grown and our home accents decided, this process undeniably continues. Look at a photo of you in your twenties (that is, if you are over 30), and you’ll see something long gone that you might not have even noticed or mourned. A way about you is now long-deceased and past-tense. Something inherently stronger and more beautiful has taken its place…
So, it is ever-so-slowly that I come to accept how, with each of my longings for positive change and newness, I must let something go. Lately, it seems that things I didn’t even know could be shed are falling away. Rapidly. It is at once thrilling and also twinged with moments of sadness. This process, though, I fully trust, is what gives life. I recognize it. The way I recognize old me and also excite to anticipate the meeting of new-me in my new-life. I hold my hands bravely open to What Gives Life.