The wisdom of my journey

I borrowed this quote from a woman who knew all the rules and wrote the book on grace.

In the end only three things matter:

How much you are loved, how gently you have lived, and how gracefully you let go of the things not meant for you.   Budda

In today’s society we race toward what we think we want. After a lifetime of laps I have realized that all along, what I wanted was sitting in the stands cheering me on. Stopping short of the finish line does not define failure, continuing the race for the sake of the race does. I’m not saying give up, give in, don’t try, I am saying run, just as fast as you can but enjoy the process of each footfall because, one step in front of the other, may be all you have.

When time is limited, and it is, shouldn’t we pick and choose, sweet instead of bitter?

Shouldn’t we spend our days gathering fulfillment instead of dissatisfaction, practicing grace instead of ire and patience instead of irritation. Shouldn’t dreams enhance our vision, not block our path?

I have run the extra mile, hiked the mountain and yes, I swam the channel. I am not giving up, or giving in. My nose is pressed against the glass in amazement. I continue with the shades up and the windows open. And my friends, how fortunate I am, and  lucky, that as the age of 65 winked into existence I realized the wisdom of my journey. 

It is at this point that blog-writers ask questions to enlist comments. I'm not going to do that this time because I know who stops by, I know who cares and I know how important the wonder of shared thoughts and words are.  

It's okay. Sometimes silence is the greatest anthem.

I may not be posting for awhile because I must focus on my column first and my third novel. But then again I may. Who knows what wonders lie beneath the leaves?