Finish Line

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.

T. S. Eliot
Four Quartets
© 1943, 1971 T. S. Eliot

When I set out jogging on a loop course I expressly plan to return to where I started, cross a clearly defined finish line, and stop. (If I don't do all this, something went badly wrong.) We don't expect that obvious and simplistic a dynamic in any moral, spiritual, emotional, or otherwise personal and subjective quest. But using this analogy of a marathon loop, in my personal journey and introspection I do repeatedly see such cycles. Usually over several years I gradually dissect, poke into, and scrutinize certain core premises, beliefs, assumptions, and values. Typically I come back to some point of origin, or at least something very near to it.

This happens never by design or intention; it just turns out that way.

One difference: the finish line becomes merely a metaphorical point of reference, not a signal to stop. I may slow down, walk awhile, even take a break here and there, but the course never ends. Oh yeah, life goes on. When I reach something that looks or feels like some sort of "finish" and I pause long enough to watch the dust settle, I often find that in fact I do freshly reaffirm some value I held before running this loop. I gain some sort of broader, deeper, or more nuanced perspective. That corroboration gives a little sense of "Aha! Now I do understand," as if finally I truly and exhaustively comprehend the topic du jour—religion, ethics, relationships, faith, morality, any specific issue.

Huhhuhhhuhuhuh. Silly wabbit.

So I catch my breath, stretch out, shower, relax a bit. Time to enjoy the luxurious warm-glow fatigue following a vigorous workout. Fair enough. Optimal growth and fitness, whether physical, intellectual, or spiritual, requires rest and recuperation to balance effort and exertion.

And inevitably something challenges the reassurance of my newfound confidence. New questions require scrutiny. New circumstances don't fit even this recently-enhanced perspective that seemed so vast. Didn't I have it all worked out this time? What happened? Looks like I need to put on clean socks, lace up the shoes, and hit the trail again.

Good. See you soon.

Here I go, on the road again….

Having run a few big laps several times, today I do affirm most of the fundamental moral and spiritual principles of my childhood; they've grown, expanded, bloomed. I've watched them morph in bits and pieces as if viewed through a kaleidoscope, so that now some of them look little or nothing like they used to.

Trying to convey these things can quickly become one of those places in a Fun House with two mirrors directly facing each other: an apparently infinite set of reflections shows up all the way down the line. It evokes the cliché: you say you know it all, you know nothing; you say you know nothing, you know it all. Probably better just to shut up altogether but then you'd be looking at a blank page here.

If you have problems with anything stated here, if something sounds trite or pretentious, I apologize for my clumsiness in expressing it. Just check back in a few years; I’ll probably understand it differently. Maybe I’ll even have learned how to say it better.

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