No, it's not a misspelling (and yes, I do make frequent use of my
spell-checker). As our agrarian past fades from our collective memory,
so will the images of pastoral scenes, farm implements, and, yes, even
stiles. I even had some trouble finding a decent photo of one (and this
one's from England, where the rural life still survives). What made me
think of a 'stile' (a ladder providing access over a fence or wall) today was an interview I had last night with Rabbi Ed Weinsberg.
Ed faced and overcame the challenges of prostate cancer just a very few
years ago, and he's written a book that documents his story (and
others) for the benefit of the 1/6 of all men who'll be facing that
disease. For Ed, the experience catapulted him to a higher appreciation
of faith, love, and even sex.
It's a fact of the human condition:
transitions never come easily. They always appear as an interruption in
the kind of life we desire and even plan for: a life of security,
tranquility, ease, and peace. Yet, as I've written fairly often, the
so-called 'interruption' is the reality, the sense of security is the
illusion. Our 'common sense' lies to us, and tries to convince us that
these disruptive events that come hurtling like projectiles into our
lives are obstacles to our happiness and progress. Obstacles? Or, are
they, in fact, the steps that take us up and over the
obstacles? I submit to you that, just perhaps, these disruptions — even
the big and painful ones — are what stimulate change and growth and
that, without them, we'd face stagnation and decay. "No pain, no gain"
is true particularly because every change involves a painful separation
from our status quo.
Once we've faced and dealt with the pain (however successfully that
may be), what we're left with is pure growth on a deep, personal level.
We may see every transition as a kind of learning experience, and every
pain avoided as lesson not learned that most assuredly will return
again and again until we're ready to accept it and deal with it
head-on. So long as we keep refusing to climb the stile of transition,
we'll keep facing the wall of denial that keeps us trapped in the
endless repetition of our mistakes.
Life can be very much like
walking in a forest on a starless night. Even with the light of faith,
we can only see a very short distance ahead. We can never be fully
aware of exactly where the boundaries of our limitations lie until we
bump up against them. For those of you who haven't yet experienced
midlife, it's doubtful that you could ever predict exactly what area(s)
of your psyche will wind up being 'ground zero' for your transition.
Regardless, the point is that it's already there, predetermined by your
nature, nurture and experience, waiting for you. The only awareness you
need to be able to face that challenge, when it comes, is that there is
no obstacle so large that your faith cannot transform it into a
step-stair, a stile, that will get you over your hurdle.
For the
rest of us, who have already achieved some modicum of acceptance of
life on life's terms, our awareness needs to focus on the on-going
process of growth. Once we've begun the transformation into maturity,
we need only recognize that this is a never-ending process (in this
world). There'll always be another wall, always another challenge,
always another lesson, always another stile. Each one will take us a
little bit further, a little bit higher, and make us a little bit
stronger. One thing you must never do is to despair. Your reliance
cannot rest exclusively in yourself. So long as you maintain your
acceptance, trust, and engagement, you (and your Higher Power) remain
ultimately undefeatable. Whether you're approaching the midlife
transition or actively engaged in it, the key to maintaining your own
personal stile is having the courage to trust that the One who has
taken you this far will never fail you.