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Now, 50 years later, I find myself thinking about that title, The Three Faces of Eve. To my knowledge I do not suffer from a personality disorder. But as I view my middle-aged self I often feel very fractured, as if I, too, had a number of different women living inside my skin. Instead of a many-faceted woman of integrity and strength, I feel disjointed. I look within and I do not see a clear image of myself. An internal kaleidoscope of images swirls around. Perhaps you understand. Perhaps you have had the same experience.

As a teacher I hear adolescents question, “Who am I?” in myriad ways. But at 52 I ask the same question. Who am I? Who am I now? How can I fully be who I am. How can I get out of my own way? In other words, what would make it possible for me to consistently live out the woman I believe myself to be —that I truly want to be?

So often I feel like a collection of broken pieces. I resemble a fragmented mirror, each sharp edge reflecting a partial and therefore distorted image of this person I call, “Me.” The people around me sometimes help me pick up those fragments, but not always. In fact, sometimes a friend, my spouse, even well-meaning family members just want me to “get it together.” What does that mean? Perhaps to be more consistent, complete, calm and centered. Perhaps it means something more profound and loving: to accept the gifts they see in me, especially the ones I have not yet embraced for myself. I hate to admit it, but that just cannot happen. Not yet.

As I move further past the half-century mark I realize how much of myself I have never expressed, and how much of myself I have left behind. Pieces of creativity, bits of old dreams, tattered remains of unfulfilled goals: I look behind and see the detritus of an increasingly long life. It isn't that I want to bring everything into the present or future. Some things can and should be left behind — like the never-actualized fantasy of becoming a cheerleader. But other deeply held elements I have unwillingly or thoughtlessly relinquished. I have not even purposely surrendered them. I have just sort of let them slip away. Now I recognize that, in mindlessly letting them go, I am very possibly losing myself.

Some people claim that the highest form of becoming requires that a person sacrifice the self. But I believe that there is a time and a place for this. Like the woman in The Three Faces of Eve, my immediate need requires pulling myself together — not tearing it further apart. I suspect that until I can claim that self, I cannot really surrender it. To try to give what I don't fully possess is like buying on credit; full ownership comes late, and carries a heavy price tag.

I no longer wish to live life as if it were a revolving account. The interest is killing me!

The time for internal spring-cleaning has arrived. March weather fluctuates moment to moment. Gales to breezes, rain and sun, yo-yo temperatures. I can relate to all that! March is my month. It is my time to move into a new season of life and living.

But what to do? As I move into Spring, I have made new commitments. I set aside time daily to be with myself. Not doing. Being. I choose to gently, compassionately recall and collect those broken fragments and unmet dreams. I now look at them as they are, try to put aside all guilt and shame, and just sit with them for awhile. Looking at old photos, perusing journals and letters, asking my most trusted friends to share their memories have all helped. I grieve over some parts, and laugh over others. And in that process, I begin to see patterns. Some of those patterns I need to lay aside; they do not serve me any more. Others I must resurrect, reassess, rearrange like puzzle pieces until the picture comes into focus. In time I will see a different picture of myself, one that is more authentic, more complete. Perhaps it will be like rediscovering a portrait by an Old Master. It calls for sensitive restoration, the right frame, effective lighting, and a more appropriate place to display. I can do that. I know there is a Master Work inside of me.

What will you do as those March winds blow you further into 2008? Give it some thought. Look in the mirror of your own mind. See the many faces reflected back to you. Who is the person behind them? Find her, become reacquainted. Then bring her out, like a debutante being introduced to the larger world. She may go very far before life's dance is done.

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