On What Has Passed

A man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life.

Charles Darwin

They say that in a year, everything changes. That the minute, the present we are experiencing, be it happy, sad, or neutral, is fleeting. To believe that if things are dark, they will improve. To be grateful for happiness, as it will soon be gone. And on this day, a year ago, things were not good but overall they were good. Today, things are not good overall but there are individual glimpses of light and promise if one only looks. And hopes.

A year ago, the bad was personally bad but this year the bad touches everyone around me, people I know and those I do not. As things are dark, it is tempting to think things have not gotten better as promised. As hoped. Things have in fact gotten so much worse that it is unfathomable. The world upside down. Life so uncertain that a path forward is clouded as the foundation has cracked. How do we enjoy today, and plan for tomorrow, if the ground below us has gaping crevasses? How can we traverse the terrain? Do we even want to move? What is there ahead? The sunset we had once thought a permanent rite of passage to mark the waking to the dream state where we imagine infinite possibilities seems to taunt us with its beauty that is only skin deep. An illusion. There is nothing.

I look over a year past to see the changes. Along the path I have walked are flowers that were once seeds, now grown. Ideas that were strewn carelessly in some cases, deliberately in others, have blossomed. Some are so beautiful they prompt awe, while others seem to be dandelions in the field, weeds choking the path and making it difficult to move on. But even these weeds, viewed from another perspective, hold promise. As the wind blows, these seedlings take flight to spread more life, more wishes, to the fields in the distance. Looking up, white clouds float serenely in the bluest sky. This moment has come and will not come again. And here I am, to experience it. To feel the wind. To smell the flowers. To hear the rustle of the grass. To see the way.

2 thoughts on “On What Has Passed

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