At Twilight: September 2007

Burdened

I feel burdened.
Burdened by my failures.
Burdened by ghosts and sorrows.

I’ve grown weary.

* * *

It had been a summer of desultory running. My body ached, and my running had degenerated into something more akin to plodding. Soaked in sweat, weary, I trudged my way past a soccer field swarming with summer camp sprites.

Oh,the cacophony! Before my eyes was a riot of color. Piercing shrieks of laughter and delight reverberated everywhere. It was a raucous display of arms akimbo, splayed legs and twirling torsos...
a joyous celebration of the unburdened soul!

One has to smile in the face of such exuberance. Smile I did. And then it struck me that I will never see a soccer field such as this populated by cavorting middle-aged adults. It would seem unseemly, no? Surreal. Perhaps even...grotesque.

* * *

A burdened soul is the price we pay for living...loving...trying. Some of us are burdened early; for some, it comes much later. No matter. Each living soul will come to feel the weight of sorrows, of failure and shame.

I don’t mind bearing the weight of sorrows. I grieve those whom I’ve loved and lost, whether they be living or dead. How can one not grieve the loss of life’s most precious treasures?

It’s the burden of failure and shame that I find so oppressive. I ponder why I’ve roped this baggage to my bowed back. Perhaps it’s my hard-wired Catholic fixation on guilt? I really don’t know. I used to think I bore my guilt and shame as reminders of consequences, as warnings. Maybe so, but so many of these lessons were learned so long ago. I’ve paid the price, suffered the consequences, learned what there was to learn...and grieved aplenty.

I’ve grown too tired to bear these burdens much longer. It’s time to jettison them. My aged body is weary enough as it is without carrying the weight of a burdened soul. My journey isn’t over yet...I’ve a ways to go. It’s time to lighten the load.

One question: Just how do I do that?

* * *