Listen to Jim’s podcast: https://youtu.be/tDWIznQxLFo
or read his transcript below:
PATCHWORK SNUGGLE
There are times that I am four years old. The first time I feel four is the time I actually am four, so many years ago. But there are many other times when I feel four again, times that continue to this day.
Just a few minutes ago, I was four again. Four, but with decades of life and experience laid on. That means I am having four-year-old thoughts and ancient grown-up thoughts all at the same time. Jumbled together, they make a profound stew.
One of those times:
The early morning of winter is so cold I wish I could snuggle forever beneath quilts and blankets and comforters. The between-time, the moments when wakefulness arises and sleep creeps away to wherever sleep creeps away to…this between time is precious. Part of what makes it precious is that I am learning that it cannot last uninterrupted.
My four-year-old self and my generations-old self wonder about life in the same way, but time and age enable me to express it all using post-childhood words.
Empathy is something encapsulated within me, something only I can feel, that no-one else knows I am feeling. At surprisingly unpredictable times, empathy magically extends itself, spreading kindnesses and kindly behavior. When empathy happens, comfort and goodwill abound. All seems right, all seems in place.
Other times, empathy sullenly hides and refuses to appear on demand, a coward ducking behind barriers of fear and trembling, confusion and disorientation.
Life is a puzzle at best. Life is so good now and then that the future feels possible. During the good periods, I try to get things done. I cling to the idea that things could be like this forever, if only…
But, just to keep me on my toes, uncertainty waits impatiently to find entrance to a less-sure self.
I lie here in my familiar bed beneath familiar covers, in a familiar room. For this instant, all is well.
In another instant, I will hop to it. I will get ready to work and play at the same time. I will brace myself against impending sorrow, open myself up to laughter and camaraderie, look for the good things that come from bad things, anticipate the bad things so that I can make them bearable.
In other words, like any ancient four-year-old, I will make do. I will try to cherish and remember the sweetness that presents itself now and then. I will somehow muddle through the day.
I will look forward to the next snuggle
© Jim Reed 2021 A.D.