“We will all get hit by coming-of-age moments throughout life.”
Joy Harjo, first Native American United States Poet Laureate
Recently my husband and I were facing one more medical situation after another. Almost suddenly, it seemed, we started to become aware that some of what had been part of our lives could be no more. I felt exhausted and worried and confused. What now? I was thinking. One more thing? My frustration was huge.
And then there was this quote from Joy Harjo almost suddenly appearing. I have known of Joy Harjo and read her work for a long time. It might sound too simple, I know, but this quote changed all of the anguish and fear for me, like flipping a switch. A coming-of-age moment. This is where we are in our lives right now, at 81. Giving this time a name of something that we’d each experienced in our lives several times (many times?) before, made it seem like not such a big deal.
Oh yeah … I’ve come of age before, and now I’ll do it again. (Okay, I might not accept another coming of age so easily. I might do an “Again???!!!” a few times. And even say some words that I won’t share here. I might even have felt the fear that maybe this time won’t have another possibility that I want. But fortunately I do know the form of this process.)
In a coming-of-age moment, all of life seems out of whack. You might be 3 or 15 or 40 or 60 or on. Alice says to the caterpillar in Alice of Wonderland “I’m sure I knew who I was this morning, but I must have changed several times since then.” This time for me, though, recognizing what was happening and giving it a name made it almost easy … at least eventually easy. I’ve done this before. Why even with children going through developmental changes, the ages are sometimes called periods of disequilibrium or equilibrium. If a person continues to grow and change and move forward in their lives, this kind of development also appears, which is what Joy Harjo is saying.
In various White Wolf Musings, I have written about entering different decades in my life. Over and over, I would experience a stirring in my chest, a sense of something coming.
“Could it be? Yes, it could.
Something’s coming, something good,
If I can wait.
Something’s coming, I don’t know what it is,
But it is|
Gonna be great!” sings Tony in West Side Story.
Of course new beginnings don’t usually come directly out of easy times. If things are going well in our lives, why would we consider a change? In life’s transition times, coming-of-age times, first there is an ending, frequently one we did not choose. Mostly, we don’t even like endings, do we? And we also don’t like the times of unknowing that come next. Those unknowing times are what William Bridges called the “fallow times.” These are the times between endings and beginnings, before we are sure about what’s down the road for us. We do feel much better when the steps are laid out. Happily there is another possibility. As Tony says, “Something’s coming … if I can wait.” Here is a key: the waiting time is actually an opportunity to practice trusting, expecting, allowing. Have you ever considered that something ahead could go even better than you could imagine?
When we are fighting against change, we are in resistance with fists closed tightly. The position of tightened fists in resistance keeps us stuck, even if we don’t like the place we are stuck. Try it right now: Tighten your fists … tighten them hard … it does not feel good, does it? This is what resistance is like for our whole self. Opposite to that, when we open our fists, even though it might be scary at first, there is a sense of ease, expectation. If you open your fists right now, as you read here, how does that feel to you? Open your hands in front of you, as though you were accepting something you wanted, maybe even something that you hadn’t even thought of, but it’s good. Now take a deep breath. In. Out. Then another deep breath. Feel that.
This is the movement toward living a life of beauty. Usually in a given moment in our lives, in the exact present, more is good than not. Breath comes through our bodies. Our hearts beat. Our brains click along. Look at something beautiful near you. Are you calmer? More toward allowing? Hold your hands open in front of you again. Breathe.
I have often told and written this story of what I learned from my first grandson, Landon, when he was about 3 or 4. When Landon came to visit, he would knock on the front door. I would knock back. He would knock again, and I would knock again. After several times of this, when I finally opened the door, the look of joyful anticipation on his face was alive! “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but it’s going to be good!” Now that little boy knew, even unconsciously, how to be living a life of beauty. Expect it. Landon knew what Tony knew:
“Will it be? Yes, it will.
Maybe just by holding still,
It’ll be there. …
The air is humming
And something great is coming!”
Living a life of beauty. Are you ready? Are your hands open wide? Let’s do it. Something great is coming.
Always, dear ones who read here, I think of you as I write … and I smile. I see you smiling back.
And I breathe … in … and out … with great love…
Dale Midgette Smith
life consultant, writer, speaker
MK Shaw
Oh joy! When I saw your name in my email inbox, I anticipated something good! Your words, your wisdom, your White Wolf self shining all the way to me and my open heart. Thank you, Dale for shedding light on the times of unknowing. Palms up, hands open. Much love to you.
Mary Chapman
Oh, my dear friend Dale. This is beautiful! Thank you for reminding me to unclench my fists and open my hands! You are a gift to me especially as we move forward on this life journey! I try to flow like a river gently bypassing the obstacles as I go. It isn’t always easy but somehow I come out from the eddy, formed by a rock or boulder and miraculously
return to the flow! Sending you hugs and love, mary
Julene Roberts
What a solace your wise words are! Thank you dear friend. ✨💖✨