I’ve just started reading Steven Galloway’s The Cellist of Sarajevo and was immediately struck by this:
“Now, however, she knows she wasn’t being foolish. She realizes that for no particular reason she stumbled into the core of what it is to be human. It’s a rare gift to understand that your life is wondrous, and that it won’t last forever.”
The puddles of melting snow and the warmth of the sun evoke that strange nostalgia that something new is just around the corner. Spring has a unique way of helping us see with greater clarity what’s on the horizon. What we’re running towards seems attainable again when we shed those extra layers of clothing. We’re more agile and rejuvenated by the change of scenery. I like change because it helps me see the familiar in a new way.
For the past three decades I’ve been on the trajectory of something I know very little about. Like a basketball thrown into the basket; you’re never shot in a straight line towards where you need to be. Instead, you’re thrown in an arc where you seem so much further from the basket until you finally drop and make that “swoosh” sound. Some of you know what I’m talking about.
I’m nowhere near the target but I know that change is just around the corner. In fact, change is happening! The Roommates are no longer babies. They’re toddlers. They have teeth. They talk. They have preferences. They give demands. Kels and I talk about what our future will look like rather than planning tactics for survival. We sleep better. We dream. We’re beginning to read again. I have passions and convictions that will soon exit their space of “hypothetical” and become “real”. This is scary. Perhaps you’re on the move too. Witnessing how the seasons in your life are in transition. The goal ahead is daunting and maybe still unclear, but take heart! Life truly is “wondrous” and “won’t last forever.”
Speaking of change, my header on the top has finally changed! (Thanks to Chris, my talented younger brother!) What do you think?