Blue Heron Visions: Chapter 6: The Progression of Life

This manuscript is both a memoir of sorts and a work of fiction. The stories and events included are based on my life experiences and memories but I have changed names, details, event sequences, and outcomes throughout the work.

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Chapter 6: The Progression of Life

Winter had finally decided to make itself felt in the city where Elizabeth and Vincent made their home. November had come in like a migrating ladybug seeking warmth for the long cold months ahead and was going out like a blustering abominable snowman. She watched as the big fluffy snowflakes mounted quickly outside her bedroom window. For most of the month she had been contemplating the idea of everything being her reflection. She wondered what the snowstorm and the season of winter were showing her about her life.

Elizabeth had been dreading winter this year. She had been clinging to her favorite warmer weather activity by riding her bike until the second week of the month. Now that the cold had really settled in, she would still go out walking but the bike had to be kept indoors and set up on a trainer. Riding indoors did not provide the same sense of freedom or power she felt when she took to the streets. At least she didn't have to put on layer upon layer of clothing to be warm indoors. But despite that benefit, she still struggled every year during the winter to get on the bike regularly. This year she had made a commitment to "just do it" because each springtime she noticed it took her muscles longer to get into shape. Such was the progression of life or so it seemed.

Elizabeth knew that "the progression of life" was merely her euphemistic way of avoiding the word "aging" or the idea of "getting older." Euphemisms seemed to be the rule of the day as the baby boomer generation approached and entered kicking and screaming into their retirement years. That "maturing" generation had no intention of going "gently into that good night" or even into the 30 or 40 years before the arrival of that final night (there was nothing "good" about it, it seemed). No, Elizabeth's generation had a stranglehold on the illusive promise of youth and was doing everything to ensure that they would be young forever, or at least until they were 100 years old. And Elizabeth was not immune to her generation's affliction.

A few days before, as she contemplated what could be called the challenge of aging, Elizabeth's thoughts turned to a quote that is often attributed to John Lennon and others as well: "Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans." She realized that she could substitute the word "aging" or the phrase "getting older" for the word "life." Getting older is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans. How true that statement was in her own life.

Thinking back to her teen years, Elizabeth recalled a moment when she was 16 years old. She was sitting next to her mother on the piano bench, watching and listening as her mom played the piano. Elizabeth couldn't remember the conversation other than she looked at her mother and said, "I feel so old." Years later her mother revealed that she thought Elizabeth's statement was heartbreaking. When recounting the story to her astrologer friend, Stacy told her that she was, at that time, already feeling the pressure of the coming years. For it was in those years from age 16 until age 46 that Elizabeth accomplished most of her generation's expected life goals: graduating high school, completing business college, working, falling in love, marrying, having children, going back to college and university, getting degrees, teaching, working, divorcing, and loving again. Thirty years of life with its joys, sorrows, challenges, and growth gone in what seemed to be an instant.

But it wasn't an instant, which was obvious when Elizabeth scrutinized herself in her bathroom mirror. The passage of time had left lasting footprints on her face and on her body while she was busy making plans to achieve what she thought were laudable life goals. They were that; but sometimes Elizabeth wished that she had been more conscious of the passing of time, that she would have embraced the journey more, that she could have understood that goals can be a way of delaying life—in other words, putting off until tomorrow what you could actually enjoy today. In that moment, Elizabeth realized that her wishes were actually the wisdom she had culled through those 30 years of experiences. What she noticed, though, was despite being able to give words to that wisdom, she still was unaware of the passing of time, did not embrace her journey, and chose to wait for future events instead of allowing herself to be happy in the present moment. She wondered what steps she could take to transfer the wisdom she had learned into the daily life she lived. She also wondered what might be a better way to create goals for her life.

Elizabeth's thoughts drifted back to the snowstorm outside. She was amazed by how deep the snow had gotten while she was contemplating the passage of time. The snow illustrated the very thoughts she had been considering. Without her awareness, the snow had continued to fall, and only when she really looked at what was happening did she perceive its depth. If she gave her attention to the passage of time—not by judging it but merely by being aware and observing it—her perceptions would deepen as would her wisdom.

Elizabeth intuited that aging, like life, could be either a conscious process or something that takes one by surprise. How could she make the process more conscious in her life? One idea came instantly: She could stop resisting what she saw in the bathroom mirror. As she considered that thought, she smiled. The answer that surfaced related to more than a physical mirror; it revealed the way she could respond to whatever was being reflected in Life's mirror. With that insight, Elizabeth knew she had just experienced a piece of magic. How exciting was that?