I toiled round and round in pointless circles, covering the same ground, repeating the same mistakes, quite unable to see where I was going. For years it seemed a hard, Lenten journey, but without the prospect of Easter. My own life has progressed in the same way.
This image is reflected in the twisting sentences of the verse, which often revolves upon itself, repeating the same words and phrases, apparently making little headway, but pushing steadily forward nevertheless. In Eliot’s Ash-Wednesday, we watch the poet painfully climbing a spiral staircase. During Lent, Christians embark on six weeks of penitence and reflection that lead to the rebirth of Easter-a life that we could not possibly have imagined at the outset. Catholics have ashes smeared on their foreheads to remind them of their mortality, because it is only when we have become fully aware of the frailty that is inherent in our very nature that we can begin our quest. Eliot’s Ash-Wednesday, a sequence of six poems that traces the process of spiritual recovery, has been central to my journey. I am now glad that after all I did not simply “begin the world.” Something more interesting happened instead-at least, I think so.
Reviewing my own story has made me marvel at the way it all turned out. We should probably all pause to confront our past from time to time, because it changes its meaning as our circumstances alter. Available at Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Indiebound
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