Martin Tanner II

Lines are everywhere: jawlines, necklines … bylines, taglines … timelines. But life and growth are very much not linear. I have been pondering this as I have been running over the last few weeks. Some days my running is slow and easy, some days it is fast and hard, others it is slow and hard, and sometimes–rarely right now–it is fast and easy. Growth in running is not linear. And I suppose it occurred to me that this is a pretty good metaphor for life.

I think many of us are taught to think of life, growth, development, learning, improvement, and their ilk, in linear terms. Our life story follows a “timeline” of birth, growth, school, exams, jobs, performance reviews, … etc. etc. There are steps and goals that we must achieve before we move on to the “next” thing. We intend to follow a never ending upward trajectory until we stop (retire or die).

Similarly, when we tell stories they follow a natural arc. Traditionally, narratives have a linear progression, a beginning, a middle, and an end.

When we look at the stock markets, we see the ups and downs, but we focus on the trend–the beginning and the end–rarely the journey. The same is, I think, true of our views of ourselves.

Lines are everywhere. But are they real? The answer is obviously, no!

Our path through life is rarely smooth, it is full of ups and downs, bumps in the road, obstacles, failures, successes and everything in between. But when we look back on life, we do not see our lives clearly. In many respects, our hindsight is not 20/20. The ups and downs disappear, they are obscured by distance, the curves are smoothed by time, and we often see only the “trajectory” that we followed, our prevailing direction, our trend line. I have been wondering if in doing this to ourselves we hurt our present selves. At the very least, I think our linear perspective is a disservice, if not damaging.

Whether we are on an upward or downward trajectory, the now is not smooth, the now is not a trend, the now is full of bumps, ups and downs, mistakes. We trip, hopefully we pick ourselves up again. We fail … we succeed … we do everything in between. We stay the course, we change direction, we bounce around. But we often forget how we got here. We need to step back and consider the bigger picture, its details, the messiness, the confusion of our lives to date. If we don’t, we lose valuable perspective and, frankly, are not being fair the current person we are in the now.

This takes me back to a thought that dad shared with me once. A thought that I now see has many meanings and one that I hope will provide comfort to more than just me. As he was dying he talked about what came next, in his case–and probably mine–he hoped it would be heaven. But what struck me most was his analogy for life and death; the front and back of the tapestry. In life, he said, we see the back of the tapestry. It is messy, there is not a clear picture. We see a mass of thread, tangled, confused, but colorful and, although we cannot understand it, beautiful in its own way. In death, in heaven, we get to see the front of the tapestry and understand (maybe) the bigger picture (or, at least, part of it). I like this analogy. I hope it is true. I hope that I get to see the front of the tapestry some day. And I hope he is there to show me.

But even if I do not ever see the front of the tapestry, there is beauty and glory in the tangle and the confusion because that is what makes us essentially human. Perhaps we can, and should, take pleasure in that tangle and confusion; enjoy the mystery. Perhaps we should take a step back in time, become children again and let our imaginations paint the picture for us, let the colors inspire us and, perhaps, if we are lucky, see a preview of what is to come. Perhaps we can define the front of the tapestry for ourselves.

My dad was a person of faith, quiet but certain. [I too believe in a god–most of the time. But I do not think I am “religious”, in fact I may invite controversy by stating that I often have trouble with “organized religion”–at least organized christianity–for removing much of the charity and goodness from the teachings of the Jesus. But that is for another day.] Whether you are a person of faith or not, I believe anyone can take comfort from his tapestry analogy. We do not have to understand the “bigger picture” but can, and should, enjoy life and the “now” for what it is.

In order to enjoy the now, I have had to shift my perspective. I have moved away from linear thinking, comparing myself to my trajectory and accepting that I cannot always be on trend … I have given myself room to fail. And that has been refreshing.

I have forgiven myself because I have seen more clearly than before that life does not have to be, cannot be, linear. I have accepted and embraced the ups and downs.

I have stopped to appreciate the back of the tapestry. And I hope beyond hope that my dad is watching me now and smiling because I have realized what he really meant: life is not always fair, life is not always kind, life is not always good, but there is always a beauty in life. I suppose it boils down to the idea that you cannot appreciate happiness unless you have experienced sadness, you cannot appreciate fortune without misfortune, you cannot appreciate pleasure without pain.

So what have my ups and downs been like over the last two weeks? Well, I am going to say that weeks 2 and 3 have been more positive than negative with a number of runs–although my pacing has been all over the place, I have completed every run I planned this week–great walks with the family and, no time writing …

But that is ok, because I have the love of my wife and children, the joy of time with them and, right now that is all that really matters. The tapestry remains as beautiful as it is obscure.