When Young

Eventually comes a lot sooner than expected... or wanted.

When young I recklessly rushed through life toward something in the future but never knowing what was possibly ahead of me, or where I was actually destined to go, or understanding why I believed I had to get there… wherever that was; I just blindly obeyed that impatient innate drive to get there fast… and it had to be fast.

Inconvenient obstacles would get in the way… such as one more hill that had to be climbed… or another bend in the road that had to gotten around quickly, and then… always one more thing… whatever that was.

Eventually I reached a certain point in life when a scary realization came: that my time had passed by much too fast, and those things which I had at one time held tightly in my hands had nonetheless slipped through my fingers and had vanished forever.

Should I have looked at life as the journey itself rather than a vague destination to reach at some interminable date in the future?

The truth is that life is an inseparable both; a journey and a destination. These two are inseparables; completely unstoppable and equally unavoidable.

Only questions remain; but then again, questions always remain as long as one is here and able to ask them.

What was the goal?

I didn’t know then and I still don’t know.

What was the rush?

I have no idea yet.

What was the purpose and meaning of it all?

I haven’t figured these out either.

Who did you journey with?

Ah ha!
This one I know!

I’m very grateful to be with her.

What is next?

Does anyone know?

The last was a deliberate trick question thrown in; nobody knows what is next.

Today I am 61 years old, now closer to 62… which isn't necessarily ancient … yet some days I do feel ancient because I acknowledge that most of my life has passed me by.

Yes! I confess to distress! 

Truly I don't want to feel and think like this in spite of being confronted by this particular inescapable reality, but inarguably most of my life actually has passed me by.

As my years have passed, God’s truths became far more obvious and unassailable; and this was in spite of everything I had foolishly wished for, naively begged and bargained for and then defiantly attempted to do anyway.

Repeatedly I am reminded that my life is truly only what exists now, in this present tense, and also to an always increasingly lesser degree, that which remains ahead of me. My life does not at any time exist in a past that has been left behind forever; reality coldly reminds me of this impossibility.

Even with these few words of admission now written, I’m constantly driven to glance backward anyway… admittedly because emotions pull and drag in that wrong direction.

Therefore, if I am unable to entirely refrain from looking back, then I wish to look back only in genuine gratitude to God for what has been, and never in sadness and regret for what has already gone.

The continuing wonder is that each new day of life is a valuable gift from God which I gratefully welcome, greatly cherish and desirously cling to, and yet realize anyway that my days here are ultimately finite.

The Oddblock Station Agent