Making Waves

Dear You,

We have looked into the depths of the ocean and the far reaches of space, but who really knows the truth about himself? Like an onion, each of us is layers and layers of self-deception. A second cousin is in prison after years of lying to himself about his alcoholism . . . until he drunkenly wrecked his car and killed someone. Now, with years of time in a cell, he writes pages and pages of self-analysis. While I don't recommend a prison term, who among us would not profit from time spent looking within?

Recently someone quoted from a memoir: "You can't see your reflection in moving waters." I've been thinking about that, exploring its truth. The idea is that if one wants to plumb the depths of the least-understood place on earth, the Self, one needs quiet and solitude.

But I look at my calendar with dismay. Busy, busy, busy. A rushed trip to Ohio here, a dinner party there, tickets to this play and that symphony -- all before tackling the stack of books and magazines that daily continues to grow. As I type this, I have NPR on the radio, and I'm listening to news. Perhaps at one time "retirement" meant some period of quiet and the opportunity to reflect on one's life. Today, lacking the dramatic event that suggests one should make a change in his life, it appears as unlikely as my decision to write on tomorrow's calendar page, "7-9 a.m. Explore Self."