So, this is life? This is what all those morning sun rises have brought? This is what a million smiles shedding a million tears wrapped in a million fears locked inside fifty years looks like?
Is this life of mine so different from anyone else’s? With all the people I have brushed up against, talked to, looked at, loved, cherished, frowned upon, laughed with, laughed at, admired, envied, pitied, and been inspired by experiencing this same life thing?
I wonder, as I think back and remember, as I look ahead and ponder, as I realize where I am and figure, what would life be like for everyone else if I hadn’t ever been around? No one would wonder what happened to me, because they wouldn’t be thinking of someone who never was. All my things would have belonged to someone else, or maybe they never would have existed? I always say that no matter where you go, there you are. I say that I’m right where I’m supposed to be. I always say that I lost my sight so that I could learn how to see. What is it that I’m actually seeing these days? The dull, gray shadows must hold something that I could never have seen before, because their meaning seems so evident. An unfamiliar definition that finally made its way into the light to become something I probably never would have noticed if I could see it.
Everything in my life these days has taken on a new look, a new feel, a new meaning that I need to learn. Everything I can’t see continuously comes flooding in with a painted description, not only of what might be, but a description of what it could become. Amazing possibilities, filled with such emotion that seems to have eluded me until now.
How wonderful is life? How incredibly lucky are we to have a life full of wonderment and magic. How lucky am I to have a mind full of smiles that I can attach to a voice, a memory to put with an emotion, a tingle up my spine to place along side a first time experience.
I can’t argue with the logic so often used to describe life as being so short. In an instant, here I am, half a century old and shuffling even further down the line.
I wish I could have all the complacency back. I wish I could have all those minutes I wished away back, if only for a minute. I wish I knew just how fast the hands on a clock can move.
So, this is life. This is why they write songs. This is what stories are made of. This is the best scene of a movie, the unforgettable chapter of a favorite book, the chorus of a mind bending string of lyrics. This is why a child learns how to crawl, why the training wheels come off of a bicycle, why the tassel gets moved to the other side of the cap. why the car keys are grabbed from the bowl on the kitchen table. This life of ours is exactly that, ours. It doesn’t belong to anyone else. It can’t be lived by anyone else. It can’t start deep inside anyone else but ourselves. It belongs to us, because it is us. No matter how many times you might feel you need to start it over, it becomes part of you again. It’s unlike anything else on this earth, yet it’s the most familiar thing in the world.
I seem to be experiencing parts of my life that are instantly becoming who I am. I never knew it, but each new experience makes up my day before I know what’s going on. Sometimes it’s a little frightening, sometimes it’s a little uncertain, sometimes it’s unannounced and undeniably different, but no matter how it transforms, or develops or becomes, it’s always there, waiting to happen, waiting to become, waiting to write the script.
So, this is life? This is who I am? This is my future shaking my hand, today?
There’s so much amazing influence that has led me to here. If I keep my feet moving, there’s no telling who I will meet, who I will talk to, who I will look up to. If I look hard enough, long enough, I can learn something from everyone I meet. Imagine the knowledge that’s out there, waiting to find a home. Imagine the possibilities that each encounter brings to the table. Imagine the impact on, life.
So, by the looks of it, this really must be, my life.