This morning, NPR ran a story about hospice care. They talked about the phenomenon of "life review", in which hospice patients and their loved ones feel the need to go over the details of their lives, telling their story from the beginning, over and over. Like someone staring death in the face, I find myself doing a daily life review lately. I go over the details in my head, starting in childhood and working forward. What decisions would I like to change, if I had the power to do so? How could I have done better, if I knew then what I know now? How did I get where I am, and become the person I am today? Do I even know who that person is?
The sad fact is, I don't. I have some vague idea of who he is not, but not of who he is. I know what he has done wrong, but not what he has done right. I have some idea of what he does not want for his life, but what he does want - what I want - is still largely a mystery.
Do we ever reach a point where we know, beyond a doubt, what we want to be when we grow up? When we can identify with clarity what will make us happy and fulfilled going forward? When we love ourselves, and those we have gathered around us, and all the holes in ours hearts are filled? How can we know? How can I know?
The chickens are scratching and pecking around the yard, as they always do. I am still watching, and wondering. Every day my questions seem bigger, and this little patch of earth seems smaller.
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