It is Only the Middle

Views are all about perspectives, am I right?

The top of a hill looks different when the sun is shining versus when it is capped by dense fog or even roiling black storm clouds.

The ocean appears vast when you’re up to your eyeballs in water, but not so much when you’re standing in knee deep water on a sand bar.

Life is like this.

At 25, looking forward, life spreads out as far as the imagination lets it. The world is our oyster. No matter how much money we have, whether or not we have health insurance, savings, or own property, it’s all there for us to taste, conquer, observe, or drink deeply.

At 60 not so much. Now things matter. Or at least we’re told they’re supposed to, but do they really?

When a gentle late summer rain falls on a nearly dead husk of wheat that husk of wheat has amazing recovery ability, even though it’s still fragile. It doesn’t change from over ripe wheat waiting to be harvested into green, swaying rye, in the prime of life, but it again looks for the sun and smiles.

If the rain is spotty, the wheat fails again, because on it’s own it has no option but to be wheat. With the rain, it can at least think of itself as tall a green and swaying in the breeze again.

Bring on the rain, drink deeply.

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