Follow the river of wisdom leading to the sea or rage against the dying of the light?

I’ve recently been introduced to a beautiful poet named Emory Hall. She is a writer, photographer and creative from Darien, Connecticut.

One of her poems from her book "Made of Rivers" specifically spoke to me about the work we must do as we move into our later years.

It goes like this: “Make peace with all the women you once were. Lay flowers at their feet. Offer them incense and honey and forgiveness. Honor them and give them your silence. Listen. Bless them and let them be. For they are the bones of the temple you sit in now. They are the rivers of wisdom leading you toward the sea.”

If you are a gentleman reader, I suggest you substitute the words, “Make peace with all the men you once were.” It works just fine.

A most important part of moving towards the sea — the end of this life — is our own enlightenment and understanding of our lives while inhabiting our unique bodies. Yes, that body goes through metamorphosis, but so does the wisdom stored in it.

I often quote my favorite spiritual mentor, Father Richard Rohr, when he said, “Aging is enlightenment at gunpoint.” Laugh as you will, but I agree that there is a growing sense of urgency as we age to make peace with ourselves and others we may have wounded.

As we spend time reflecting on our early years, it can be pleasant and downright embarrassing. Or even worse, maybe we have a history that we regret — perhaps we were another person back then. If we carry shame, embarrassment and guilt, it is time to make peace with all those people we once were.

There is a decision to make or at least an awareness that we have the capacity to make peace with ourselves. We have the choice not to be burdened by our past. It may not be a dramatic failure from our past. Maybe we just realize we were shallow and selfish with our attitudes and time.

For all those persons we once were are now our very bones. If we have carried around thoughts that we were inadequate as children, parents, wives, husbands, employees, citizens, etc., we can honor them and make peace with them. We have gained our wisdom through all of our inadequacies.

It is not because we were intelligent, talented, and clever that we’ve gained wisdom, but because we grew from our mistakes and weaknesses.

What have we gained in this life if not peace in our old age?

I never understood or liked the poem by Dylan Thomas, "Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night." He says, “Do not go gentle into that good night; old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

No, thank you, I’ll take the river of wisdom that leads to the sea.

Find Connie's book, "Daily Cures: Wisdom for Healthy Aging," at www.justnowoldenough.com.

This article originally appeared on Topeka Capital-Journal: Dylan Thomas and Emory Hall offer vastly different looks at death