Exposure to life, knowing
Exposure to life, knowing
This quote sends a very powerful message. One that not many people think about it. Whether you like it or not, you are, in fact, dying. The process began the second you were born. I can tell you that in my twenties, thirties and even into my forties, I was so wrapped up in the intricacies of every day life that I never gave death a thought. Now that I have ventured into my fifties, I have come to the realization that I have much less time on the earth than I have spent on it.
This is an odd feeling. I find myself thinking about my mortality and how it has laid claim to how it plays a role in the decisions that I make every day. My priorities on what it means to be happy, and how I can get to that level of happiness have evolved and is now paramount in my life. It also continues to be an ongoing exploration of seeing that being happy is much easier than we think it is.
I’m not talking about gaining material goods to see if I can make myself happy, it’s more of a choice of how I interact with everyone around me. These personal interactions are what I consider to be true measures of happiness.
Being happy is a choice made by every person every day and should last until our last day.
“Tombstones covered the dale, the smooth marble surfaces bright. She had spent days here as a teenager, though not out of any awareness of mortality. Like every adolescent, she intended to live forever.”
“Live life with grace, there is no return from the grave.”
― Lailah Gifty Akita
I had some time again before my daughters hcokey game so I ventured across the steet to this small cemetery and took these pictures.
For no one, cruel
Dark mask covers the unknown future,
Waiting, careful contemplation,
Each beat lost forever,
The wind caresses each tree,
Cool and calculated, each leaf a shadow of its previous life.
Drifting downward, it’s breath taken, patiently awaiting rebirth,
Autumn’s inevitable demise the path it must follow,
Measured in time and longing for the unknown,
The coming cold dark nights tell the story and the truth
Of life itself.
Thoughts of fall, the colors melting as falling leaves spread the residue of change across the landscape.
Shrouded in a fine myopic mist, the land lays waste to a slow death.
Wanting to hold on to precious life, the false hope of the future lasts until time reaches out and quietly asks it to return to the earth.
We travel through life hoping that time won’t move.
Always hoping that it will stand still with the steely determination of a Marine standing guard.
But it doesn’t.
Days, months and years spent living, mystifyingly chained to the fixtures of life itself, not paying attention to the ticking clock.
Yet time marches on.
Family and friends pass, reunited with the earth, silenced by time, remembered briefly and then forgotten like the sting of a bee soothed by cold cubed ice.
We move on, masking our sadness with memories, perceived and real, that are tattooed in our minds.
Time begins to take over, the memories that once held us up now falter and fade, our own timeless progression now becomes the enemy.
We then pass and that memory will hold another up until time catches up with them.