And so it goes
Friday afternoon. Happy and sad. Rich and poor. Beautiful and ugly. Polar opposites, each of which cannot exist without the other. We (I) spend so much of our (my) time running like heck from things that are uncomfortable or not as comfortable for us as we'd like and yet still they flourish and thrive.
Good people get hurt. Good people with rich lives full of purpose and meaning. The more I ask "why?", the less I understand. What I know for sure is that there is much beauty and richness and love in the world and that it's absolutely essential to grab on to it with all that you're worth for as long as you're able. The greatest tragedy, it seems to me, is not to have lived - truly lived - at all, out of fear, ignorance, or, worst of all, laziness. What an affront to Life to pass right by the banquet table and not even stop to nibble on the feast that is there for us, if only we reach out to it.
After 37 years of starving my spirit, I'm reaching out with both arms, fingers stretched to their max, looking for new experiences, new sensations, new ways of thinking about the world and my place in it. Sometimes it feels like "A Christmas Carol" with me as Mr. Scrooge on Christmas Day when he realizes that it's not too late to change and that he still has time to make amends.
As long as there is life, there is hope, and with hope, anything is possible.
Good people get hurt. Good people with rich lives full of purpose and meaning. The more I ask "why?", the less I understand. What I know for sure is that there is much beauty and richness and love in the world and that it's absolutely essential to grab on to it with all that you're worth for as long as you're able. The greatest tragedy, it seems to me, is not to have lived - truly lived - at all, out of fear, ignorance, or, worst of all, laziness. What an affront to Life to pass right by the banquet table and not even stop to nibble on the feast that is there for us, if only we reach out to it.
After 37 years of starving my spirit, I'm reaching out with both arms, fingers stretched to their max, looking for new experiences, new sensations, new ways of thinking about the world and my place in it. Sometimes it feels like "A Christmas Carol" with me as Mr. Scrooge on Christmas Day when he realizes that it's not too late to change and that he still has time to make amends.
As long as there is life, there is hope, and with hope, anything is possible.
Comments