So my astrology friend say that we are on the eve of a big change. We are about to pass through the Spring Equinox, halfway between Winter and Summer. There is something about this being an auspicious time to settle matters of spirit and prepare for a coming season of engagement. I am still feeling a bit unsettled. I am, however, involved with the unsettling feelings in a much different way than even a few months ago. Dare I say that I am maturing?

Blech. I want to spit it out as it forms on my tongue. This is not a word that I have a comfortable relationship with. I have often had an aversion to maturity as my belief was that it signaled the loss of something.

But in the last few weeks the invitation to accompany myself, truly accompany myself, in my decisions and relationships and experiences is building a new capacity for not only understanding myself, but sharing it with others. Is there a maturity to that?

I’m going to need a hand with this one, folks. This is an edge for me. I don’t know what it means to be mature. There is a bit of judgment already bubbling up after that declaration. I will foray a bit deeper…but I am going to call in some reinforcements.

Our favorite poet, raised in the hills of that place where the pudding comes from has a powerful handle on his understanding of maturity:

He writes that maturity, “is the ability to live fully and equally in multiple contexts”. He continues with, “Maturity is not a static arrived platform, where life is viewed from a calm, untouched oasis of wisdom, but a living elemental frontier between what has happened, what is happening now and the consequences of that past and present; first imagined and the lived into the waiting future.” If it stays dynamic I could maybe be ok with that. It certainly tastes better that the loss sandwich that I have been serving myself thus far.

Today I went to a memorial service for the father of a friend. Dozens of voices from all the chapters of his past shared stories that stretched from the absurd to the generous. What blew me away was that as a childhood friend talked about Larry’s outrageous behavior, they would use the same perfect adjectives that I would have used to describe evenings of debauchery parading down Frenchman St. When people talked about his fidelity and constancy as a deeply trusted friend and ally, I saw clearly my own experiences with him and his generosity with his full attention whenever we spoke.

He was loved deeply by everyone there, and he loved his friends and family with a tenacity and vigor that was unparalleled in everyone’s estimation. The way that he left the same imprint on his friends and family, new and old, speaks to me of shades of the kind of maturity that I quoted from David. In all the contexts of his life, he lived fully.

What are the ways you have matured in your life? How do you feel about it? Do we lose one thing and gain another as we mature? Or perhaps it’s not about the tally at all?