Open House

I am all the ages of my life at once.

I have been increasingly toying with this idea.  Often when I make a breakthrough or see the path open up before me, I've felt a subsequent dread at the thought of abandoning other options, closing doors to the unexplored corridors of the self.  I suppose if J.M. Barrie were on to something then it would be his idea of our being as a house with many rooms--

Some say that we are different people at different periods of our lives, changing not through effort of will, which is a brave affair, but in the easy course of nature every ten years or so. I suppose this theory might explain my present trouble, but I don't hold with it; I think one remains the same person throughout, merely passing, as it were, in these lapses of time from one room to another, but all in the same house. If we unlock the rooms of the far past we can peer in and see ourselves, busily occupied in beginning to become you and me.

Think about it.  Say you couldn't or didn't do certain things as a child. What comfort it would be to know that you have access to those pieces of yourself, that you can and do often find your way back there, if only in finding those eyes again!  If you are a house, engage and explore those rooms. Compartmentalize when you must, but never lose the keys, and know that you are the most open thing to yourself. 

So then, I have decided to no longer fear losing something that is with me and in me. It’s all a matter of the order of exploration, eh?  These days are the notes of life, and God taps his baton.  Hear the beat?  We must love that syncopation, that music in motion, for we are only as grand as we allow it access to move.  Explore and own the fact that life is good. Courage to choose, wisdom to know.