From a early age I could hardly wait to finish school. I would dream of all the things I could do without school being in the way. Just think my mornings and afternoons would be MY time. But then my brother opened up a pet shop. Why that was what I called a perfect job. Being surrounded by birds, fish, small animals. After school I would dash from the junior high to the pet shop and then Judi would pick me up when she left work. When school was over with I wondered what my life would be, married, children, job, university, growing old etc, etc, etc.
My journey of life. How does one grade their journey of life? Do we grade our life based upon what sort of house we live in? Does one drive a new car? Is your car a hummer? What job does one grade themselves? A factory, a desk job, common job? What is retirement going to be? Traveling, cruises, another country? Is one's passport full of stamps?
But what happens when a disease cuts your life short? When you can no longer enjoy traveling? The country side holds no interest like it was when healthy. Or food at a restaurant no longer settles well? Sometime Ellen and I would get in the car and just start off in direction. No plans, just drive off.
The point is we should not grade our journey of life. My life is still a journey. I am still traveling. It seems that we grade our life in all of the wrong areas. So I have a disease that hinders my traveling. I am still breathing. Ellen still fixes unusual dinners. I can still read. I can still walk through gardens. Ellen last year mentioned that I should move my chair to different corners of the yard so I can see a different picture. And do you know it worked. Yes a journey has an end, however I am still on my journey. What matters is how are we viewing this trip. I am not only traveling the length but also the width, the height, the angles. The only boundary to my travels are the one's that I have placed in front of my. The moment you take your eye off the bull's eye, we deviate the course. I place limits by worrying about the trip. The doubts lock me. We cannot know what lies ahead. We only know the moment. So use the moment wisely and cheerfully, eagerly. We should measure the journey not by time but by the action, the thought we put into it. The moments we have are like jewels, not just about size but by worth. Our moments should be note-worthy, enduring, long lived, like the jewels of time. Not buried with clumps of sod on top but out in the sun, twinkling, brightly, alive with the spectrum of colors, colors of life, colors of a journey, colors of moments.
With a wink and a nod-HeWal