Plateaus

“I don’t know, Lynn;  I just feel flat, as if I’m stuck.”

“You’ve probably just reached a plateau.”

“What do you mean?”  Lynn, fifteen years my senior, was a beloved cousin and mentor.  When I was young, I knew her as a famous singer who traveled and performed with celebrities.  Poor health forced her off the road, and a failed marriage stripped her of all material wealth.  Yet, Lynn never lost her quiet dignity, and I found in her a gentle friend, who was always willing to listen.

“The spiritual journey has been compared to climbing a mountain:  sometimes the going is easy and exhilarating; sometimes it is steep and difficult; and sometimes you reach a plateau.”

“That feels about right.”

“Have patience, and when the time is right, you will move again.”

I always pictured Lynn as a pillar in my life.  Her strength and presence often held me up.  Since she died fifteen years ago, no one else has taken her place.

* * * * *

My quest for spiritual enlightenment started as a little girl.  I distinctly remember being five and having a strong sense of purpose, as if God put me here on this earth to do something.  I felt it was important to keep the door open for God, so that I would be ready when the time came.  My faith was pure, innocent, and wholehearted.

Fifteen was when I started to have doubts and  turned my back on God.  I also fell into a depression that would not break for many years.

At twenty-eight, I felt like I suddenly woke up from a deep sleep, and the quest was on again.  These were the years when Lynn and I bonded, and I tackled that mountain with fervour.  I had never felt so alive.  Even through hardship and pain, I never felt alone.  I knew that God was with me.

Then I turned my back again.  It was nine years ago, but now I’m backing, asking questions again; wondering.

I guess I just hit another plateau, Lynn.

 

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