Sometimes, it just withers away

I was looking at some of the pictures I took in the last year an a half and this one caught my eye.  Flowers, no matter how beautiful they are, always seem to have a lifespan.  Even as it fades, you can see the beauty that once was.  It didn’t wither because of lack of care.  The garden was the beneficiary of abundant rainfall.  The flowers were well taken care of.  In their time, their beauty was a reflection of the warm sun that nourished them.  And yet, as with all things, the flowers have an expiration date.

Each thing on earth has an appointed time.  In its time in the sun, each flower provides beauty and sustenance.  They may fade away, but each leaves a mark all its own.   And come next spring, another set of flowers will sprout and grow.  And like the flowers that came before them, they too dazzle the senses.

The circle of life.  Mysterious.  Essential.

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Joy

Make someone happy.  Happiness is the meaning and purpose of life.  In our day to day lives, we are bombarded with messages, overt and subliminal, about the importance of being happy.  Live your life to maximize your happy moments.  Sounds great, doesn’t it?  And yet.

In the height of happiness, everything seems possible.  The world is at your feet.  The view can be intoxicating – everything around you is orbiting a central sun.  The central sun that is you.  And yet.

Moments of happiness never last.  They are not illusory, but they are transitory.  A lifetime lived pursuing happiness is a life lived in selfishness, self centeredness.  A life that put’s one’s self in the center of everything is a life that means nothing.  A life that constantly searches for affirmation, for the next big conquest, the next big raise, the next mountain to climb – is that really a life worth living?  A life where the self is the centerpiece of existence will experience moments of happiness.  And it will experience moments of sorrow.  Moments of pain.  Moments of great accomplishments mesh with moments of great disappointments.  A life that centers on the self and the self alone leaves the soul barren.  And the heart empty.

Perhaps, just perhaps, we need to understand that true existence must be centered not on one’s self, but on what one can do for those around us.  Selflessness instead of selfishness.  A soul exist within the body and outside its confines.  An existence that seeks to give, instead of take.  Not the material things that we all covet.  But one’s self.  To let others see you as you are.  The crooked smile, the thinning hair, the not so perfect eyebrows?   These are not the things that define you.  It is that smile, as imperfect as it may be, given to others that may be in need of a smile.  Helping someone cross the road, in a stiff wind that blows your hair into a frenzy.  Listening to someone, with eyes wide open, eyebrows raised, to let them know that they are not alone, that you can share their burden.

Respecting people, no matter who they are.  Embracing differences as a means of recognizing that an individual is but a part of a greater whole.  To see the weak and the oppressed and then realize that their struggle is your struggle.  Our struggle.  To understand that the sense of self is completed when it becomes entwined with the many selves that surround us.  Understanding that it is a kind heart that allows joy to permeate a life.

Joy.  When happiness subsides, there is something that centers us.  When sorrow overwhelms, there is something that supports us.  When we feel pain, we somehow know that like happiness, it will not last and a new page will eventually be written.  Joy allows us to know ourselves; to find value not in what we have done, not in what we have accumulated; but instead, to find value in who we are, in what we give of ourselves to others.  When our heart is filled with generosity, we can truly love.  In the selfless abandon of truly sharing who we are, what we have, what we do with others around us, we find that in moments great and small, in the important and in the mundane, there truly is meaning in our lives.  That in the core of our existence, there is joy.

The Stars at Night

As I gazed upon one year old twins, I think about my own youth.  Once, I was the baby on the crib, nurtured by parents who provided for my needs, sheltered me from the elements, protected me from harm.  As I grew older, they grew older and so it is with every person, of every generation.  We are like the sun, first rising slowly, lighting a path on a dark planet.  Slowly but surely it rises higher and higher, and soon enough it reaches its zenith.  Then slowly it starts to sink towards the horizon and when the last light of twilight is extinguished, the world turns dark again.

And yet, I could not escape the thought the sun is but one star in the firmament.  Each of us, as we grow older, as we climb higher in the horizon, begins to blot out other things in the sky.  And yet, elsewhere in the heavens, other stars continue to shine.  And I am heartened to think that each one of us, each of our ancestors, is a star.  Even as our lives shine bright and we become the center of our universe and seemingly outshine other lights around us, the stars are always there.  And so it is that I remember my father and mother, now gone.  And grandparents.  And uncles and aunts, and the many people who came before me, who came before them.  In the evening, before I sleep, I look at the window and see the stars that are always there.  They are never truly gone.  And if we listen carefully, we can still hear the voices within them.  They can still teach us.  If we let them.  In our dreams we are in some ways always children, always protected, always loved.  Awake, we know that life and love are eternal, shining forever, in the heavens around us.

I Love the Desert (because it makes my hair look good)

It takes out the frizzies!  Or so I am told.  I wouldn’t know, since I don’t seem to have enough hair to have them.  Still, I really do like the desert, in this case the Oregon high desert near Bend.  What can I say about Bend.  A beautiful town.  The mountains, the lakes, the snow and the desert?  Yes, the high desert.  While it’s not as hot and dry as the Mojave, it has a beauty all its own.  These pictures were taken in an outdoor homestead exhibit in Fort Rock.

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On an August Day

It was, for August in the Washington D.C. area, a relatively cool day.  In the midst of summer, it was time for a walk in the garden, to take the sun in, to find that even in the undulating continuum that we call life, beauty always beckons, just waiting for us to find it.  We need not look far.  It is always within ourselves, if one decides to live a life not solely for one’s self but also for others.  Happiness comes not from selfish abandon but from selfless generosity.

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