A Meditation From the Middle

It seems that when we are the closest to holiness, we are simultaneously closest to the most base, ugliest parts of ourselves. In our every day lives we are somewhere in the middle, lulling slowly up and down on the waves of life. But then a day comes when the clouds part, the heavens sing, there are fireworks and displays of beauty and Godliness that we never hoped or dreamed to see. And we are forever changed. Or at least we think we are. Until the next day when we have slept off the inspiration and overwhelm of the day before, and it is as if we must equalize, come back to our place in the middle. And so we fail. We fail the beauty that we have seen, the truth we have known, and it comes from this place of wanting the comfort of the middle, even as we have glimpsed something more. As if we know that if we stay high too long, we would be too happy, too good, we would have too much to lose. So we lose it quickly, plunge back to the bottom in order to reach the center again. That's the thing about seeing truth. Real truth. It is so overwhelming, so frightening, and so infinite. We cannot help but throw it away the first few times we see it clearly. It is too bright. Too real. Too hard. Too far from where we are.

My life is going to change dramatically by my being in Israel. I have already started to see myself differently, more clearly. And it is alarming to see with such clarity because the person who I thought I was turns out to be only a fraction of the person that I can be. And not only that, the person I was is fundamentally different than the one that I am becoming. And it scares me and excites me all at the same time. I am afraid of the huge changes that can result from this, and so the part of me that likes the middle keeps on pulling me down. But I believe in the part of me that keeps pulling me back up. It is an intense struggle filled with pain and anger and guilt, but also with joy and hope and, dare I say it, infinite potential. And I am going two steps forward and two steps back each time. And it hurts more and more when I pull myself back down. I keep trying to run up the steps. Reach the highest height in just a minute or an hour or a day. And by going too fast, I don't build the foundation under my feet. I lose my balance. I fall. All the way back down. Again.

Just as I need to learn my lesson and stop listening to the the old me that wants to stay in her comfort zone, in the middle, I need to stop listening to the part that is too excited to get to the top to be present for the journey. Up and down, up and down I go. Always coming back to rest in the same place where change and growth are just out of reach. It is a different way that I must go about my life now that I see the possibility for the steps I can take. I can do it, though it's really really really hard. But one of these days I'll get out of the middle. I will walk out with patience and grace so that I may slowly and deliberately ascend my way to the top.