"And the light that's lost within us reaches the sky" (Jackson Browne)

 I've been listening to Jackson Browne's Before The Deluge over and over and over again and while there are many lovely lovely phrases, I've been at a bit of a loss as to exactly why the song resonates with me as much as it does.  It's by no means a new song but it's new to me.

Today, some clarity. The mental health journey is arduous and has been particularly difficult the past few months.  October is usually fairly awful, and it was worse than usual this year. The struggle started earlier and was much more intense, and then the reprieve of November came but pretty early in November, the struggle changed and became more difficult, in ways it hasn't been difficult for a really long time.

So it's been ...dark. Dark and wearying and kind of lonely and horrifying and today I found myself singing along with "the light's that lost within us" and instead I sang "...and the light that's locked within us reaches the sky" and that, THAT, that right there is what I will strive for until my dying breath ...

By the Light, by the power of that Light, the light that's locked within me will break forth and blaze and not just reach the sky, but transcend it.

Your past is not a template for your future.

 So many times, I hear myself telling people these things:

    Your history is not a template for your future.

    Your parents are not a template for who you are.

    You have choices.  You have the power to choose.  Awareness is a gift.

I believe these things, truly, strongly, deeply. I believe that we have the power to make different choices than our parents made, even the power to make choices that are different from the ones we ourselves have made in the past.

This week I came face to face with my own template and it was oh, so tempting, to surrender to it.  There's safety in patterns, even in the ones that make us hate ourselves.

School has been tough this semester. I'm tired of isolation, of uncertainty, of not having quite enough money, of being lonely and overweight and schoolwork has been very difficult to force myself to do. One of the professors I took several courses from in my undergrad degree said "Every time you choose not to quit is an act of healing."  

Because that was my pattern.  Big plans, big ideas, big dreams, or even small dreams, dreams as small as "I will do my homework early and thoroughly" ...I started out well and finished poorly.  I remember being highly insulted in high school when one of my teachers berated me (and a few others) in front of the entire class for not working to my potential.  (Now that's an interesting thing to find insulting - how dare he call me smart??)  

I took a year of university shortly after high school.  I failed one course, dropped another, passed English and Psych.  This became my template:  I don't finish what I start.  I have no ability to follow through, to finish well.  (Never mind that in my late 20's I successfully completed a diploma in Business Related Computer Programming at NAIT while working full time...that's the thing about templates, sometimes - we form them early, and then we ignore all evidence to the contrary.)

For years, actually decades, I did not go back to university even though I dearly longed for a degree in English because "I don't finish what I start."  I did not go back to school six or seven years ago (time is flying, y'all.  I don't remember exactly how long ago now!) planning to get a degree.  I went back thinking "well I'll take a course and see what happens." I was pretty sure I knew what would happen but -  somehow, by doing the next thing, and finishing what I started on however small a scale (a reading, an assignment, and lo and behold, a course and then another course) - I got a Bachelor's degree.  And nobody was more shocked than I was to find myself pursuing a Master's degree.

Fast forward to this semester when I am farther behind than I have ever been, in more than one course ...for one brief half hour yesterday, I came face to face with the template. Everything made so much sense.  I'd been looking at too small a picture, but looking at the big picture?  The journey that started  six or seven years ago that led me to this moment?  This was going to be the moment that matched the template. I may as well stop fighting it. I don't finish what I start. This will never not be true.

Thankfully I also believe you don't have to believe everything you think, and I'm sitting writing this instead of an essay (which I will go back in a few minutes) because I want to blog this, and then post a link on Facebook, and then at least once a year, I can remind myself:

YOUR PAST IS NOT A TEMPLATE.

And if my past isn't a template?  Neither is yours.