I feel like I have lived so many previous lives. Not in the religious sense of being reincarnated over and over, trying to get things right. But in the sense of having done so many different things throughout my days.
Autumn always puts me in a reflective mood.
So does Doctor Who.
I was smarter then. I am smarter now.
I was healthier then. I am healthier now.
I was stronger then. I am stronger now.
That was then. This is now.
I am different.
I would like to think that I am always getting better. At whatever I need to get better at. But the real truth is that I can only say I keep moving forward in the way that a river moves forward. I could try and paddle against the current, but it’s much easier when I go with the flow.
And just because I’m moving forward doesn’t always mean I’m getting better. God has circled me back plenty of times for what I now know is officially called reteaching.
I missed it the first time. Or the second… or third… or eighty-seventh.
Let’s try it again Laine.
I am a work in progress.
Last night was the end of Season 4.
The Doctor regenerated. After some very poignant episodes and reflections.
I felt sad. I really liked this character. And next time I watch, the whole show will be different. He will be different.
The spoiler-alert-people say the next Doctor will be even better. But still, I liked this one.
I have regenerated many times too.
I’m on about my seventh iteration.
At least one more to come before it’s all said and done. Maybe more.
At the start of the third lap on the track the other day, I said: I need to go somewhere I know. With people I know. In a place that I know. I don’t think I have it in me to start all over again on this next go round.
Each regeneration… each iteration… is like a death.
The whole life cycle: birth… living hard… dying… rising.
Ah… there’s that Paschal Mystery thing in all its glory… in all its Glory.
How many times in the course of one life lived will You ask us to travel the circle?
The little dyings and risings get easier with continued practice. And You are always giving opps for practice.
It’s all the big dyings and risings that wear me down.
Maybe that’s Your plan.
That at some point, I will realize my resistance is futile and I will willingly take Your hand and simply follow. Without question. Without hesitation. With love.
It’s not that I don’t like regeneration. It’s just that this particular iteration is pulpifying me. When I transform, I will understand:
For it is only when I am weak that You make me strong.