What It’s All About, Alfie?


What’s it all about, Alfie?

Is it just for the moment we live?

What’s it all about when you sort it out, Alfie?

By: Burt Bacharach-Alfie


It’s been a strange week, I’d have to say, a week of pain and contemplation, a time to sit and heal and wonder about the meaning of life. Even though I’m now in my senior years I’m still questioning the reason for being, the grand plan, how I fit into the world.  Yet the answers still elude me.

I now believe in God and that He/She/It is a power bigger than me. In my college years I searched for the true meaning of God and Jesus.  Was a higher, divine presence all a myth as some people said or a divine being as other’s preached?  It has been hard to finally accept that God exists, yet things have happened over time that are too coincidental.  In retrospect I feel like I’ve been guided throughout my life, as if an unseen presence is touching my shoulder and saying, not this way, go here.  I have learned over the years to listen to the voice that guides my mind and body.  The times I haven’t listened have not turned out well.  Is it an angel or God who helps me?  Or am I being silly and delusional?

I have walked down the road of life, tooling along, not a care in the world, and suddenly have hit a wall. No problem, I’ll simply turn the other direction.  Again I hit a wall.  There are four sides to a box so I again change directions, thinking now I will find peace again and the answers to a happy life.  But again I hit a wall.  It comes to me, that voice that I must go with the path of least resistance and I turn and walk at great doubt out of the box, to safety and comfort.  This is not something I would ever have thought about in my youth.  But with experience I see that an unseen presence has guided me away from walls and cliffs and thus I have survived to fight another day.  Do other people have this spiritual connection?

There is no doubt that I love my life right now. I can come and go as I please.  I am beholden to no one, a free spirit.  How lucky is that?  Yet everyone needs to be tested, everyone needs to feel the bite of pain, disaster and grief.  None of us are immune from those three, although in our youth we laugh and say, not me.

Have you ever met someone who has lived a perfect life, whether rich or poor?  Have you ever met anyone that was rich,  in perfect health, in a perfect marriage/relationship and absolutely without any conflict in their life?  It took me a long time to realize that, in spite of what my mother preached to me as a kid, no one is perfect or can attain true perfection.  Sad but true.  But we can be the best we can be, to ourselves and others, the Golden Rule.

The last six months have been filled with death and loss and pain. My fall was the latest test of my spirit.  I wonder now if I am back in a box again.  As I sit quietly in the house, with my dogs and cat and craftwork, I wonder if I’m being urged to give it all up.  Am I being guided in yet another direction? Am I being saved from over doing yard work, gardening, traveling here and there to dog shows?  But, I argue within myself, I love these things.  I don’t want to give any of it up.  I’m happy.

When I was a little girl my dad said no to me while we were at an amusement park in upstate New York. I had a major temper tantrum, in public, on film, my butt plopped down on the cement walkway, my legs thumping against the ground in fury.  My dad loved his movie camera and even though it was the early 1950’s the event has survived on film all these years.  And no, I’m not going to post it, mostly because it’s on VHS and I don’t know how to convert it to digital, thank goodness.  But when I hear the voice, the feeling that I need to make a major change, I feel myself having the same temper tantrum.  I keep trying to fight the walls.

It’s not like life changes have ever been bad for me. Sure, I’ve made bad decisions after the change, too human and stubborn to make amends and be a good person.  But that’s how we learn consequences, which can be a form of imprisonment in our own mind.  But I listened and changed and now I’m happy.

So why am I hitting walls the last six months when I love my life and I’m going along, having a good time, doing well?

What am I being saved from? Is there a God or am I being delusional?

What’s it all about, Alfie?

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