Destiny Orientation Redux

This picture was taken over two years ago ~ and used in my blog at that time as well. Finding the image again, I chuckled. How far ~ and not ~ I've come in these past nearly two and a half years!

Running around the tech floor of a building, I spotted this sign on the wall outside a computer lab. On my first pass, the words didn't immediately register... until I swept into the office where I'd been headed. Upon leaving the office, I determined I'd get a picture of the sign.

Destiny Orientation? What in the world was that? Whenever I recall the sign, I grin and shake my head. But it makes me think as well. Do we need an orientation for our destiny? How do we know what our destiny is? Can someone else orient us? or tell us what or where or with whom we are destined to do or be? How long does the orientation last?

For the past two and a half years, my destiny has been pointing to an upcoming moment. My orientation has been a compass point ~ the 'due north' direction of retirement. However, retirement is not in itself a destination. It's a rite of passage, a gateway to the next phase of life. As with all rites of passage, we see it on the horizon long before we arrive. And we have a need to ritualize it, to make the passage a sacred one.

My entire life is focused on ~ as with most of us ~ living into my destiny. My definition of who and what I am shifts like the dunes of the Sahara. Even though my core being remains stable, I continually reorient myself to accommodate the height and movement of those subtle changes. I breathe through the disorientation of those shifts, remembering that my destiny lies not only on the path ahead of me, in the perpetual movement around me, but also within me. It will always be so.

What determines your destiny? How do the tiny or enormous shifts in the dunes of your life change that? On what do you depend for your orientation? What is your current 'due north'? How is it different from what it was two years ago? What is the 'lab' from which you draw your orientation?

Becoming a Hero

As I was flipping through pages on the internet, I came across a catchy statement: She needed a hero, so she became one. I searched for an image with the quote and found this one with a variation on the theme.

We often think of heroes in terms of war. There's always conflict and a reason for someone to enter the fray and save lives. Even our love of superheroes, be they Marvel comic heroes or otherwise, illuminates our sense of needing rescue.

What most attracts me to this image is that she is revealing herself to be Superwoman. She is visible and unafraid. Her head is up and she has a determined look on her face. She is unshakable. She is also beautiful ~ and she exudes confidence and awareness.

She defies the concept of the helpless female crying for the bulging-muscled, ripped abs male hero to save her. Or of the princess looking for the handsome prince to awaken or complete her. It's clear that she creates herself in the image of the hero. Or perhaps creates the hero in the image of herself. Either way, she recognizes that she can become one. She doesn't need rescuing by anyone; she stands up for herself, takes care of herself, watches out for herself.

The quote touches a deep place in me. Growing up in an era where women as a group, rather than individually, were beginning to see themselves as independent and capable, the notion of needing a man remained a subtle subtext. As time marched forward, that subtext became smaller and much less legible. My daughter, another generation completely, operates in a world where being your own hero, your own superhero, no matter who you may be.

Who are your heroes? How are you a hero? Do you continue to look to others to save you? How do you rescue others? How do you define a hero?

Difference Beocming

"The old woman I shall become will be quite different from the woman I am now. Another I is beginning."

~George Sand

I'm always fascinated by quiet, unobtrusive, yet powerful statements made by strong women from various times and backgrounds. This one is the most recent.

Our culture teaches us that women disappear as they age. Their sole outstanding feature is the remains of their youthful appearance. This is what creates the incredible market for botox and a variety of plastic surgeries; hair color products that promise to cover the gray; the latest make-up and facial care products that 'defy aging' and keep our visible face, neck, eyes looking young and supple.

We forget the beauty of aging. We forget that we have earned every wrinkle with our laughter and our tears. We forget to be proud of the experiences that have shaped us into the beauties that we have become. 

I'm not saying that women should not take care of themselves. Or should not color their hair. Or should not use the latest 'age defying' creams and lotions. What I'm saying is that we women should not be slave to them. We should make the choice of using these products out of our own desire to explore the variety of aspects of who we are rather than to pretend that we are not growing older.

We can believe in our strength, our determination, our beauty without giving in to the culture that worships youth. I don't want to be afraid of growing old, of fading from existence and becoming invisible. I want my aging to be graceful and grace-filled. I want to exult in the different I that is becoming.

How do you feel about the aging process? What scares you about aging? How can you keep yourself from fading from existence? What first step ~ or small step ~ can you make toward embracing the different I that is beginning?