We learned a German term in literature class, Bildungsroman, that describes the type of novel that focuses on the psychological and moral growth of the main character from youth to adulthood. In trying to commit this word to memory, I drove home from class this morning pondering my own Bildungsroman.
I saw definite positive turning points in my psychological state the year I was 39 and again this year, at 59. (I can’t say the same for the year I was 19, but I can say I am already looking forward to whatever psychological growth spurt hits at 79!)
I learned everything the hard way and ask myself “what went wrong?” Why did my progress from youth to adulthood seem so long and painful?
Sometimes, of course, we move through our lives with unrealistic expectations. Then eventually, if we’re smart enough, we get a clue and make adjustments for our limitations, lack of talent, innate abilities (and disabilities), and all the other bad breaks that can’t be avoided. If we can do this without going completely off the rails, we prove our character, I like to think.
With every adjustment, if we keep our eyes open, we stumble into a new passion or interest to take the place of that for which we weren’t, apparently, cut out. The wise man will concentrate on his strength and forgive his weakness.
This process takes a lifetime for some of us, so the quicker we muster the character to move on, switch gears, forgive our failings – the quicker we find success, however we may define it.
In looking back, I can attribute half of my success to my own courage, or determination, to push through my comfort zone and see what I could see on the other side. The other half I attribute to timing, disastrous clouds with surprising silver linings, and the help and encouragement of others.
At 39, I have science to thank for a physiological chemical change. At 59, I have other people to thank – and quite a group of you there are, too! You come to mind when I wake in the morning and am, at last, glad to be alive. You’re there when I tingle with gratitude. You appear at times despite my shortcomings, my brashness, my sarcasm, and my attempts to avoid you.
And I can’t end this crazy confession of “happy-happy joy-joy” without mentioning the undeniable advantage of simply growing older and no longer feeling responsible for things I can’t control and caring less and less about what others think.
This lesson in Bildungsroman, then, is my Christmas card to one and all. Peace out! In lieu of the traditional card, I am making a contribution to the local food pantry.
(Today’s graphic is an acrylic painting in which I tried to depict a sense of agony. Some say it looks more like contentment than agony. I like to think my failure to do as I set out to do reflects my overwhelming inner peace rather than my inability to paint.)
Forgiving my weaknesses and errors seem to haunt me more than I care to admit. I know I am not the only one that struggles with it, but will victory ever come, or is it my cross to bear?
ReplyDeleteYour mini Bildungsroman reminded me of the journey of Tulugaq Kagagi.
ReplyDeleteYou did it again, you moved me with your words. I enjoy reading your blogs but I'm also envious that you write so well since I wish I could.
ReplyDeleteAs for your painting, my first glance at it reminded me of the "Scream" by Edvard Munch but after a closer look I think it's quite impressive and beautiful and I'm blown away that you created that.
But then, why should I be surprised.
Your friend, Dianne
I was about to post something along the lines of: doesn't character just automatically come with age and experience? Then my thoughts turned to some of my friends who have certainly aged over the years, but have not matured and certainly do not have much for character. So there goes my theory.
ReplyDeleteAs for the painting, I have to agree, my first thought was contentment as well.
Take care and Merry Christmas!
When I look at the painting, the first thing I notice is the outer face. It looks, with its lips parted and a golden aura, as though its gaze is heavenward in hope and positive anticipation. The inner face provokes an image of grief to me, with eyes shut and mouth fully open, head tilted back in pain. Overall it reminds me that though there is pain in life, hope is always greater.
ReplyDeleteMary,
ReplyDeleteFirst of all, THANK YOU for such an amazing "Christmas Card." Best one I(we) have received.
Second, thank you again for being you and sharing your talents of writing, art and those lesser known pieces of you.
Honest self-reflection and insights...so darn refreshing. May the rest of us take note.
Hope all is well over there and know that we think of you both often.
Your neighbors,
Diane and Tracy
Merry Christmas, Mary & Greg :)
ReplyDelete