BahamaMan’s BodyBlog

            I’m a huge non-fan of most “inspirational” sayings and metaphors for life.  You know, like “Somewhere someone is training harder than you.”  No sh*t.  But I bet that someone didn’t stay up all last night with a sick kid, either.  Or, “Everyday a gazelle wakes up on the African savanna knowing that it has to run faster than the lions that day.”  Wow, man, like pass the bong.  Actually, Young gazelle wakes up and sees sick, slow, OLD gazelle struggling to get to his feet and knows he can mail it in that day.    

            There is some worldly wisdom however, boiled down to a few words, that does SPEAK TO ME.  “Just do it” is deceptively profound and pumps me up.  “The journey of a 1000 miles beginning with one step” is an oldy but a goody.  And call me a softy, but Margaret Mead’s “Never doubt the power of a few to change the world…” still gives me goosebumps.

            A long while back my dad sent me a letter with a message that still motivates me twenty years later.  I got the letter back when I was not too long out of college, back when I was really too young to comprehend the value of the message.  (But I’ve hung on to it all this time.)

            The letter was a single piece of unlined white paper (now yellow and getting brittle) with the following couple of handwritten sentences and 6 typed paragraphs:

            “Mike, I read this recently and was very much impressed by what it had to say.  Read it, think about it, and read it again from time to time.  I believe it does a good job of describing what life is all about.  Love Ya, Dad.”
 

                      
                                      The Station
            Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision.  We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent.  We are traveling by train.  Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hill, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls. 

            But uppermost in our minds is the final destination.  On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station.  Bands will be playing and flags waving.  Once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle.  How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering – waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.

            “When we reach the station, that will be it!”, we cry.  “When I’m 18.”  “When I buy a new 450 SL Mercedes Benz!”  When I put the last kid through college.”  When I have paid off the mortgage.”  When I get a promotion.”  “When I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after!”

            Sooner or later we must realize that there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all.  The true joy of life is the trip.  The station is only a dream.  It constantly outdistances us.

            “Relish the moment” is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24.  “This is the day which the Lord hath made; we shall rejoice and be glad in it.”  It isn’t the burdens of today that drive men mad.  It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow.  Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.

            So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles.  Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less.  Life must be lived as we go along.  The station will come soon enough.

            I framed this piece of paper and hung it on my wall several years ago and, like my dad recommended, I read it “again from time to time.”  The significance of the message rings truer every year as my train draws slowly, but nonetheless non-stop, closer to the final station.