“The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other’s welcome.”
-Derek Walcott, excerpt from Love after Love
Lately, I feel like I have time traveled into my own future, as if I am just visiting this forty-five-year-old body and the life surrounding it. In this version of my life, my four kids are rapidly becoming adults (a nurse, a college student living in France, a graduating high school senior, and the “baby” entering high school) and the time with my kids at home is reaching the end.
The part of my mind that resists the stolen fifteen years grows insistent. This isn’t real. You’re actually back in your early thirties and your kids are still wearing tutus and pirate costumes during school time. Right now, you’re sitting down to read the second Harry Potter book out loud together as your youngest child snuggles on your chest.
The voice is so convincing that I can feel the warmth of the baby against my chest, the other children pressed into each other with their limbs overlapping, their collective weight relaxed against me as I start the first chapter.
And then, suddenly, I return to my older self. No children are pressed against my skin. No children are even around. I examine myself in the mirror. What parts have enlarged or shrunken, which parts have pain? I run my finger along the scars from a recent surgery, attempting to track the lost time with my body as the map. Did I make it to the other side of time intact? Am I still me?
I want to go back, I whisper silently like a wish on a birthday candle and I close my eyes. When I open them again, the reflection in the mirror tells me that it’s still 2023.
This is actually happening. There is no going back, I tell myself sternly, issuing a wake-up call.
There is no going back, I repeat. But this time I say it with more gentleness.
I can hear both a warning and an invitation in this human limitation of time. To keep my eyes on the past and wake up only to discover another fifteen years have disappeared just as quickly. Or to anchor into the here and now, with all its messy transitions.
Because whether I like it or not, it’s time.
Words to Consider
From the Sketchbook
I may only be traveling through time in my imagination but my art is going on real trip across the globe.
My year-long art class is doing an Art Swap. This week I sent these six ATC (Artist Trading Cards) off in the mail. Will my cards land in California, in Italy, or exotic Oklahoma?! In return, I’ll receive six cards from six different art students. I can’t wait to see what I get in the mail. I’ll share an update when the birds have made their final landing.
Favorite Finds
Poetry
Shannon Truss and I have shared a love of beauty and writing for over twenty years. This week she published a book of poems called Kinship and I highly recommend this collection to you. The poems explore kinship with God, the body, nature, as well as kinship with others. You can purchase her book here. And you can read her weekly words here.
Blessings from the Guest Nest,
-Aimee
Aimee ... once again ... beautiful. You have such a gift for words. I love you and I'm so glad I get to benefit from your great gift!!!
This one is so relatable. Lovely words!