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Little Rant by Eightball & Thundercloud
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The Seasons of Life
"To every thing there is a
season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven..."
(Ecclesiastes)
I find myself alone on a snowy trail in my most
favorite of hiking spots. It is winter; the sun seldom shines in Ohio this time of year.
Others become melancholy and blue in January's incessant cloudiness, but I revel in it.
The dark overcast days bring a special sorrow with them to be sure; but it is a reflective
sadness. One that inspires introspection and a still inner-peace that causes me to ponder
the nature of things and the wonder of life.
The bonds of long shadows and dark gray skies will soon be broken by spring's renaissance;
when the world is reborn in the resplendent bright vernal light of the comparatively
immortal star we call "the sun". So, I will relish the dark gloomy days of
winter and remember that this winter has but a short engagement upon the stage of my life.
And it occurs to me, as I walk beneath the endless gray canopy of sky, how very special
and unique each life is. As I pass the leafless, snow-covered branches and occasional sad
bushes with bright, red berries courageously and tenuously clinging to
them in spite of the bitter, harsh winter wind, I realize that life too,
has its seasons.
The springtime of our lives is replete with wonder. It is the wonder of a child exploring
a brave new world; one that has been thrust upon him or her for reasons none of us
understand or can explain. Exploring with all the senses, the world overwhelms a child,
for every single thing is new. From the scent of a rose to the sight of the nitrogen-blue
sky; the senses of a child are absorbing all even if they are happily unaware of it. It is
the time that we become who we will become and all we see and all we do becomes part of
the person we will always be. It is the time when we, like that first flower of spring,
raise our heads and discover ourselves and our new world for the very first time.
The summer of our lives is the time when we explore our world and learn the intricacies of
it. Breaking free of the bonds of our own backyard and the shelter and safety of our
homes, we become explorers of the world. The more we explore the more we know. During the
summer of our lives we are formally educated, decide on a career, fall in love, marry, and
raise our children. Some say it is the "prime" of our lives. If we are lucky, by
the summer of our lives we learn what "responsibility" means. It is the time,
also, when many of us become mired in the mundane duties and everyday challenges of daily
living. Many of us cease our exploration; for the endless wonders of the world have become
buried in obligations, work, and a never-ending stack of unpaid bills. We simply don't
make or take the time to continue our exploration as the autumn of our lives swiftly
approaches. Fortunately, as we shall see, by the grace and the infinite wisdom of the
Divine, we have one more season left to reach for the stars. One more season that will
provide us the time to grab our sextants and our dreams again and go forth to explore
ourselves and the world anew. Indeed for some, the best is yet to come.
The autumn of our lives is a strange and haunting time. It can be a time of sorrow and a
time of joy. It is the time when we realize that the number of days which we have left
upon this Earth are growing shorter and our purpose is less clearly defined. Our children
have grown and found their own lives; and we often discover that we have spent so much
time acquiring the things we have, and working and raising our children, that we have lost
ourselves. But, the autumn of our lives can be a time of rediscovery if only we
choose to make it so. And sadly, it can also be a time when some discover their usefulness
diminished and their choices narrowed; limited by their own self-imposed restrictions and
refusal to see the many paths which still remain open to them. It is true then, that the
only limits anyone has are the limits they impose on themselves. If we've learned anything
by this time of our lives, we've leaned that we cannot live our lives based on what others
might think. If we do then we lose ourselves and become servants of the whims and fancies
of others. Do not let anyone ever tell you that you cannot do something you want to do
because you're "too old".
The
autumn of our lives can be every bit as exciting as the spring and summer were, but only
if we are not dragging the heavy chain of limitations around with us. Free from the
unbridled passions of youth we are more free now than ever before to seek the ultimate
potential inside ourselves. For, at any stage of life, the only places we cannot go are
those places we will not go. The only restriction that age places on us, beyond the
obvious physical ones, are those which we allow. We control our own lives only if we
choose to do so. And we can only choose to do so if we truly believe we can.
It is the spring and autumn of our lives that are the most important, for these are the
seasons of life that determine first, what we are to become, and second, what we shall do
with the person we have become. You can choose to wither and fade. You can throw your arms
up in exasperation and sigh that the years have passed you by; or you can embrace the
autumn of your life as a renaissance; a time to remake yourself; a kind of
self-metamorphosis. You can celebrate your choices and let your mind sail free. An
entirely new voyage awaits you and you are at the helm.
By
this time you've acquired something called wisdom. Wisdom is not taught in any school. It
is taught through the tough lessons of life where the tests are given first and the
material covered later. You have learned a great deal from these tough and often painful
lessons by the time you reach the autumn of your life. Now you must choose to move on and
acquire more wisdom; or surrender to the passing of the years and simply fade away. The
choice is clear: You must never give up.
A great many people accomplish great things during the
autumn of their lives. Indeed, some never realize their full potential until
they reach this stage of their lives. Laura Ingalls Wilder, Thomas Edison, Winston
Churchill, Benjamin Franklin, George Washington, William Shakespeare, Nicolas Tesla, James
A. Michener, Leonardo Da Vinci and many others have achieved great things in the autumn of
their lives. Henry Ford didn't start the Ford Motor Company until he was almost 50 years
old. You can say to yourself "I cannot do it because I'm too old" but that is
just comfortable and worn excuse. While it may be true that physically you cannot run a
five minute mile at age sixty, you can write a great novel, develop a brilliant new
invention, be of service to your community, develop new skills, or become a world-famous
photographer; for your choices and options are bounded only by your desire and the limits
you set. You can use the autumn of your life as a time of rediscovery; a time to explore
your passion for life and to unleash your hidden creativity. Let your life be a
candle in the darkness for those who cannot find their way in the dark. Blaze a new path
to achieve great things, learn new skills and cut a new well-lighted path for others to
follow. By your example then, others will see that age is no barrier; greatness can be
achieved at any age.
The winter of our lives should be the shortest season of
all. It should be that narrow stretch of road we reach only in our final years. It is a
time when we should take pride in our accomplishments and enjoy the privileges that we
have earned. If we have lived a good life then we will have the great reward of being
loved by others and the honor of knowing we have done our very best. We will gracefully
accept that we have come to the end of one great journey and rest upon the footpath of
another. We can sleep knowing that we never did grow old.
Do Not Go Gentle
into that Good Night
(Dylan Thomas)
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.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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