Someday I Will…
How many times in your life have you said those words, “someday I will…”? When I was young, I dreamed that someday I would see the world, someday I’ll make a difference, someday I’ll have a job I love serving others, and someday I’ll find the love of my life…someday.
As time passed, I stepped into one “someday” after another. When I’d stop long enough to realize I had achieved a goal or had a dream realized, I would have a sense of satisfaction that would last a fleeting moment. Then I would continue to set new dreams, always seeking and stretching to the next “someday I will...”.
The critical difference in this phrase is the declaration of “I WILL…”. It’s not “I want to,” “I hope to,” or “I wish to.” No, it is a firm statement of certainty. The margarita master Jimmy Buffett wrote a song that has...
How Old is Old?!
My grandfather was born in 1900. To be born at the turn of a new century was fascinating to me. I would ask him what it was like to live in the “olden days” assuming there was some big remarkable change from one century to the next. He would chuckle and say, “no, we just were trying to get by day by day” and no more.
Grandpa would sit on his front porch and watch the squirrels and the neighbors and talk about the weather. He often commented about that “old” man across the street who annoyed him because he didn’t bring his garbage cans in on time. One day I saw this “old” man neighbor, and I said, “grandpa, you are 85, and your neighbor looks about 60!”. He grinned and said, “yes, but he acts older than me!”.
And there you have it. How old is “old”? I have found myself saying this year, “I’m too old to pull an all-nighter” or “no,...
I just got back from a blissful wooded walk. We live in a beautiful rural part of north central Florida with magnolia and oak trees whose limbs are filled with Spanish moss gracefully draping over the branches that reach out parallel to the dirt road we live on. The beauty of the trees and the peace and quiet is a soul soothing experience.
I was feeling grumbly as I started out this morning about Covid and not feeling safe to travel and fly and see new sights and sounds and people.
Poor me, woe is me, it's unfair...to me.
Then I stopped at the far end of the road west of our house and sat on a stump and just sat there in silence for a while. Once I stopped thinking about ME, I began listening to the wind in the trees. It sounded like the beginning of Appalachian Spring the Aaron Copeland symphony.
Then the birds joined in as if they were the flutes and piccolos adding to the complexity of the song. Up from my phone popped a 1 minute audio from the app Waking Up...