113 Glory Days

I remember the embarrassment I felt at the end of year awards assembly, eighth grade, where I was called to the podium so many times that the exhilaration passed and it became embarrassing

I opened the prayer book and read, “…guide me on to the golden road so that I do not get lost in past glory. Keep me aware of new days to come.  Make me a child again.” The glory days of yesterday.

I heard Bruce Springstein in my mind, singing Glory Days.  It was a song I sang when Eric spoke of his high school track moments.  And he hated it.  In the show, Married with Children, Al Bundy lived in a moment of glory where he completed a famous pass in his high school football career.  For this to be comedy, it must be something we all do… looking back.

Our minds can go waaaaay back.  I remember the embarrassment I felt at the end of year awards assembly, eighth grade, where I was called to the podium so many times that the exhilaration passed and it became embarrassing.

I was always an honored student with high grades.  I worked for them.  In college, there was a difficult teacher in the arts department, and one of the most satisfying honors was that I was invited into his “in crowd”.  That only happened for one or two students each year.  Being invited was enough.  Glory days.

There were moments in holding parent group offices, or in managing for scouts.  For some spaces of survival, spiritually through a Kundalini awakening. Or through medical perils, the long lived MRSA experience, or the recent day by day drama of colon and uterine cancers.

It’s difficult not to cling, even to the little things.  In my last occupation, I taught people to drive.  Although I do have a high standard for safety when I am a passenger, I don’t need to continue teaching the elements of driving to experienced motorists. It’s so difficult to shake off.  I talk to my brain about letting it go.  The brain does not listen.  Clinging.

I think the prayer is centered in allowing ourselves to be in the present and to be open to the gifts of an uncertain future.  Specifically, death.  Specifically, death of the past for certain.  We really think we are something, someone. But it is ever shifting, changing, dying, growing, evolving. 

We can have gratitude for memories, for glory days.  But in living, the glory is in the moment.  The glory is in the open acceptance.  The glory is in the Divine unfolding. 


Author: Michele Plumb Stowell

Michele Stowell was a teacher, a hand holder, and encouraging voice. Born an early Gen Xer, she has lived in Western Washington for the duration. Her children, two spectacular genetic daughters and an uncountable number of marvelous scout and school sons and daughters, shine as her biggest impact and her greatest blessing. Just before her 54th birthday, Michele was diagnosed with stage four cancer. Her writing and art work are expressions of the drama and the joy of living earth bound. On October 24, 2021, Michele was released from her physical body, transported to continue her work on other realms.

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