Sunday, July 16, 2017

“Over the course of the millennia, all these multitudes of ancestors, generation upon generation, have come down to this moment in time—to give birth to you. There has never been, nor will ever be, another like you. You have been given a tremendous responsibility. You carry the hopes and dreams of all those who have gone before. Hopes and dreams for a better world. What will you do with your time on this Earth? How will you contribute to the ongoing story of humankind?

~ Laurence Overmire

It’s a still morning, almost eerily quiet; the sky, smoky. I wonder what happened with the forest fires overnight. A strong windstorm was forecast for the overnight period which could have made things worse, and likely accounts for the increase in smoke this morning. If the wind raged I didn’t hear a thing.

I’m introspective as I sip my mug of frothy coffee with Maya by my side. I’m reflecting on deep things like how the slightest of course changes when we’re young influences everything about how we will experience our time here.

I’m pondering what it would be like if we paid attention to the wisdom of those who went before us. I’m thinking that the choices made by grandparents I never knew influence me being here, doing what I’m doing, in this exact moment.

I’m thinking about my granddaughter with whom I enjoyed a couple of conversations and a Skype visit with yesterday, and how choices I made when I wasn’t much older than she is now colour her life today.

Life. It’s wonderful and terrible; beautiful and harsh; temporary and fleeting. A gift.

It’s cliché to say that I wish I knew then what I know today, but I do.

But I didn’t.

I make choices today that will influence the future too but here’s the thing: the choices made in youth can span generations; those made when we are older don’t reach quite so far into the future. Or do they? Or can they?

I’m rambling; that’s just the way my morning ruminations are this morning.

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Maybe noting a few simple happy things will bring me back to earth.

Cucumbers on the vine; I’ll pick the first one today.

The silence of the morning.

Lavender sprigs on my windowsill.

Blue Ball canning jars.

Hope.

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