My grandmother smiles as she walks slowly with her cane toward the camera. She has my mother to her left and my father a step behind her. I use to look at this photograph and miss my Grandmother; that is no longer true. Now, I pick up the faded portrait and I see my parents a few years younger than I am now and I see their children, youngsters, smiling, naïve of the world beyond their homes and naïve of time and I see my Grandmother as a mark of time.
It is not to say that my Grandmother is only an age to me, the memories of her still brings love and joy to my heart. At times, I can smell the strong fragrance of roses which is her way of telling me she is with me. Yet, she is a mark of time, a reminder of the cycle of life and how time has marched on with its own beat, having a conductor unseen and unknown.
Fleetingly, a feeling of sadness for loss and perhaps, a panic of time left to be lived – or not. My mind brings me back quickly to the present, informing me that life is not only a physical experience. Though the physical body is required to have a human experience, I am reminded that having a human experience is our spiritual purpose. It is how our soul will learn. The beloved family members in the photograph may no longer be here physically, but their joy, love and guidance continues. What about me? How long will I live? Will I be my grandmother?
Being a grandmother is not my goal in life, but to live a healthy life helping others to successfully live out their human experience is. It is not my intention to meddle in the lives of others or to dictate a doctrine, a lifestyle or a way of living. Perhaps, the best I have to give, the best any of us have to give is our hearts and our compassion. I choose to leave my Ego at my feet and step over it. I choose to only acknowledge the time that I know I have here without concern for age or death. It is what I do with it that matters.
Aging is a frame of mind, a limiting mindset that builds barriers in our minds. The self-talk we often hear from others becomes their mantra. This mantra of “I am old” quickly is agreed upon by the Ego and soul and becomes reality. The acceptance makes it a belief. The belief then involves the emotions, attracting and creating all that accompanies such a limiting belief.
Is our time worth more than the restraints that we place upon ourselves? Do you we value the unexplained, the new experiences or leaping beyond our comfort level? We marvel at Olympic athletes as if they were gifted and we were not. In all truth, the potential for each of us to shine in an arena of choice and passion exists. The difference is that those who shine and excel have learned to continue to reach down into the well, further and further. When it seems as if the well of abilities, passion, and physical stamina are about out, more is found at the bottom. The question lingers, have we ever drilled our own wells? Have we really lived? Is there more to each of us?
I will continue to look at that faded photograph and see my loving grandmother, my parents, siblings and myself as love frozen in time. This portrait of time, this monument to life will also be a reminder that this moment counts. This very minute, this very second is what I have in my hand; it is a treasure chest. The treasure is what I choose to do with this present. This present moment. This gift.
