“No one changes, but instead becomes more of who they always were,” an English teacher told me. As a high school student, I held closely those words armed by their promise. At a time when kindness and backbone lay crumpled at the bottom of my locker suppressed by insecurity, I hoped my hidden, more honest parts were a better indicator of who I truly was and may more become. I hoped for change, became more honest, kinder at times, and slowly understood that becoming isn't really a change at all, but instead, a slow reveal, an uncovering of oneself.
The trees and the leaves have always known this. Each fall, the nights grow longer, the temperatures colder, and slow mountain roads become filled with leaf peepers looking for change between Dairy Queens and roadside rest stops. Except leaves don't change. They too become more of what they always were. The colors we photograph, the aching heart reds and rusted out oranges, were always there present within each leaf since bud break. It's not until the lengthening nights of fall when photosynthesis is stopped and chlorophyll recedes into darkness do our color blind eyes see more than green. But those colors, those gorgeous colors, were always there. Invisible, but existing beauty waiting to be revealed, wanting to be uncovered, and only the darkness could do it.
This fall, as you toss on the lights at 3 pm or remark how much shorter the days have become, consider your own beauty unrevealed. Let whatever is covering it lose its fight. Feed it to the darkness. Allow your slow reveal to unravel the life you were meant to live; become who you always knew you were.
Hey Lisa, the Unknowner in the previous post was from me, Mary. I hadn't set up my account yet and now that I have I am feeling motivated to get some thoughts down soon.
ReplyDeleteI'm trying to read more and am currently enjoying Sherlock Holmes mysteries. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and you have given me an angle for my blog, should I actually start it. I'm inspired by how timeless so many works of literature are and how clearly they capture the human experience still today.
Your "Slow Reveal" post made me think of the gradual unraveling of my true self over time. Sir Arthur Doyle expressed a similar idea when he wrote about Miss Morstan in "The Sign of Four": "She must be seven-and-twenty now- a sweet age, when youth has lost its self-consciousness and become a little sobered by experience." I'm a few years older than seven-and-twenty and am experiencing a self-confidence, acceptance, assurance like I've never known before. In a society where youth is prized, I hope I turn my efforts to recognizing and savoring the secrets each new year of life holds.
What a beautiful, inspiring post. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank you both for taking the time to read my post. I really appreciate it. I read some of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries a few years ago and was blown away by Doyle's writing. Despite being written so long ago, it was still relatable. I can't wait to read more of both of your blogs.
ReplyDeleteTesting again
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