In order to cope with my disappointment as to the delay, I have found an old coping skill that has served me well in the past. Essentially, I have gone inside myself and I focus on self nurture and self compassion.
This style of coping was very characteristic of me from junior high school until my sophomore year in high school. I would spend most of my time in the library and I toured the entire world in my imagination with Sir Galahad always at my side as my guide. As I have said before, I did not have a single friend other than my brother, Gene, although I had many dozens of acquaintances.
It was not until the middle of my sophomore year when Nancy Shafer (May her tribe increase) found me in the library and since it was Sadie Hawkins Day she asked me out on a date. I quickly agreed and the course of my life changed dramatically. Having a pretty young woman at my side has been a consistent theme throughout my life and while the age of the woman involved has increased, the rush of energy has not diminished.
In some mysterious way my ability to connect with Nancy has morphed into an ability to connect with the multitudes around me. (Thank you, Walt Whitman)
While the similarities between where I am now and where I was then are compelling, there are very important differences. In my earlier stage, in addition to being alone, I had no clue as to my future journey. That is very different from today's situation. I am still withdrawn into the cocoon of myself but the atmosphere around me is permeated by a golden glow contributed to by all the people whom I love and am loved by in return.
The other major coping skill that I am relying upon is the prosaic concept of work. (Thank you Sigmund Freud for Arbite und Leben) This dynamic can easily be conceptualized in the poem “Work” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
WORK
What are we set on earth for? Say, to toil;
Nor seek to leave thy tending of the vines
For all the heat o' the day, till it declines,
And Death's mild curfew shall from work assoil.
God did anoint thee with his odorous oil,
To wrestle, not to reign; and He assigns
All thy tears over, like pure crystallines,
For younger fellow-workers of the soil
To wear for amulets. So others shall
Take patience, labor, to their heart and hand
From thy hand and thy heart and thy brave cheer,
And God's grace fructify through thee to
The least flower with a brimming cup may stand,
And share its dew-drop with another near.?
To Be Continued in Some Unpredictable Manner,
Sparky
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