Landscapes

Sitting at the gate at Newark Airport, I can see across the runways the distant skyline of New York City. While the Empire State Building and other mid-town skyscrapers are impressive, it’s the ones to the right, downtown, that capture my attention and heart. If I didn’t know better, I would say it’s always looked this way. But I know better. I wonder what it must have been like to sit in this seat many years ago when two airplanes changed the landscape of the city and this country forever. I could focus on today’s landscape only, but to do so would shallow the meaning of all that sits in front of me.

Our lives provide landscapes of sorts, and, like the one before me this morning, it would be tempting to focus only on what is in sight and disregard what has been. No, I don’t advocate living in the past, but nor do I think we should ignore or deny it. The lessons held in the past are as important as the ones in the present.

{C}·               Yes, you are happily married and your career is thriving, but remember when you received that call about your daughter being in an accident and not knowing if she would survive.

{C}·               Maybe your life is in turmoil - the bank is after you, your life seems meaningless, or your boss has given you a painful review – remember when your child walked gingerly across the room with arms outstretched and said: “Daddy, I love you sooooo much!”

Somehow the landscapes are connected. I don’t understand how fully, I only know that life is diminished when they are separated.

In 12-step recovery, there is a promise that “we will not regret the past, nor wish to shut the door on it.” Given what most of us have done to earn our seats at such meetings, that is a bold promise, but it points to the importance of holding the two landscapes of our lives. The skyscrapers across  the way remind me that the dark smoke of the past is connected to the soft clouds of this morning, and I am trying to open my heart to them both.