The bazaar …

“My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue, an everlasting vision of the ever-changing view.” – Carole King


I have the privilege of working with a team comprised of men and women significantly younger than myself.  Time spent connecting … laughing, telling life stories, sharing important endeavors, and simply working hard together … brings joy to each day I’m scheduled to work.  Many of my team have recently graduated from high school, or in the early years of college.  All seem engaged in life and eager to chart passion-filled courses towards career and life.

As I prepared for work this morning I reflected on all this, giving it time to soak into my consciousness … time to blend with other thoughts flowing through my mind such as the passage of “time” at an ever-faster pace.  I mentally stood back to see those younger teammates and was emotionally touched by the thought that I’m watching them fill the empty spaces of their personal tapestries … beginning to weave the fabric of their lives.  I also saw the special quality of this moment, me granted this view into their early stages of life’s definition … how it will be designed, colored, and woven into their lives.

Some of my young comrades talk of charting courses traveled by parents, special relatives, or family friends.  Some talk of charting courses taking them to a role close to their heart.  And some are still testing the waters, trying to sense the direction meant for them.  The space between their years and mine allowed me to sense the difference between my seasoned fabric and their freshly woven work.  I sensed the space between … the space between their emerging work and my nearly completed work reflecting my personal architecture, use of seasoned colors, repairs of tears, and changes yet awaiting completion.  And it was such a gift to be able to watch and “feel” these fresh weavers work and craft their fabric.

Yes … a gift to “feel” their excitement, energy, and enthusiasm for their journey ahead while realizing within myself that I am witnessing something of a time machine … seeing what I undertook in my early days … in my fresh, new attempts to begin weaving this personalized fabric of life we each carry and wrap up in each day.  Such a gift … to sense my own excitement and emerging awareness of seeing this rare and once-in-a-life time set of moments from a place of greater understanding and elder wisdom, becoming an observer knowing that each personal effort will be rewarded by living a life meant just for them.  A gift to know that even using great care, some of their threads will be broken, weaves missed, and colors diluted by the sun or other elements of life.  It simply is the nature of “the journey”.

I realize that I am witnessing a dance of life performed by special beings at a special time and it fills me with awe.  It’s like standing in the middle of an ancient bazaar filled with merchants and artisans busy creating and selling their wares.  An amazingly colorful bazaar … vibrantly loud and active.  A place where energy surrounds me and carries me up … lifts me up … stirs my soul … and reminds me of past and present times when I too stood in the bazaar and still do.  And I realize that it’s not only my past, but my current moments that makes me a merchant and artist like my young friends.  Like my young teammates, I too continue adding to the fabric of life … my life … repairing tears and adding fresh designs, color, and texture as I weave with each breath until I pass into yet another form, fold my fabric, and set it on the self.  And they too will continue weaving as life unfolds.  Yes, the weaving continues through life so that the fabric wrapped around them and me reflects the results of our choices, wisdom gained, and self-awareness achieved. Hummm … I wonder what color and shape best reflects blogging???  I wonder ….

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s