Sunshine after the rain
April 4th, 2007 @ 2229Filed in: philosophy
A ponderable thought of late, is the heightened activity of the accomplice of my arch-nemesis. Those who aren’t acquainted with the villain of my tale, fear not; it lurks in many places, with many names, and often wearing different coloured hats. This latest hat is one of my most feared.
The above picture is not in fact, the aforementioned foe, but where the dish and spoon are going, is a bit closer to the mark. The past few months, (and the ensuing ones) seem to be constantly filled with this single word, ‘goodbye’. It is a strange word, evoking a myriad of emotions and thoughts, yet, is synonymous with my ubiquitous adversary. You cannot have this thought of farewell without being forced to trace it to its evil root.
So where do people go? Some have left work; some have left the country. Some have left my church, and some have simply left life… all, however, leave a growing sadness in their wake. Whilst it seems like a lot, it is still almost surprising that there aren’t more people leaving one place or another, with the many branches we choose to follow each day. Opportunity to try something different, to go somewhere new, to be someone else… this opportunity confronts individuals on a daily basis. We wake up and decide if we still want to live the same life we always did, or if we want to do something different.
Is it really so easy? I’d like to hope not, but judging by the mass exodus of people from my life this year, maybe it is. Some friends I now only see at farewells; such is the regularity of our mutual friends departing for a foreign continent, seeking fun and adventure amongst people who steadfastly believe that we ride kangaroos to work/school.
I don’t even know how I am meant to feel when saying goodbye. An underlying emotion is always loss. Moments that have not yet had the chance to develop into actuality, conversations that might have been, memories that had not been made — all of these burst in the bubble of a goodbye. The question of “could there ever have been more?” invariably arises, since it is in that second, that finite nature of time is felt in its truest sense. For some people, we have only fleeting moments before they fly away. How can we ever be sure that all that was, was all that was meant to be? I wonder if I will ever see you again. Lenny had it right.
Amidst these lugubrious thoughts rise that expectation of how one is meant to be feeling:
Elation at changing one’s place of employment. Excitement with a trip overseas. Encouragement for supporting another congregation. Empathy with the passing of a loved one. A lot of E’s there, but not the ones I want. Everlasting. Eternal. Enduring.
Somehow though, this is life. This is the life we live in, where people often enter through one door and then exit stage left. Growing accustomed to this process is part of growing up, possibly one of the keynote aspects in fact. Perhaps that is why I never have really grown up; somethings, I just can’t accept yet.
Closing thought; something I first read when I was about 6, from a tiny scroll purporting to contain the meaning of life (i.e. a fortune cookie from a Chinese restaurant):
Growing old is mandatory,
Growing up is optional


