small truths

"We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn’t always know this and am happy I lived long enough to find it out."

~ roger ebert

we're so busy.

we scramble around and make plans and carefully tend to our illusions of control.

things to do, places to go. more things to do. time flies by in a blur of mandatories. 

sometimes, though, life happens. and plans change. and we're reminded that control is not what we think it is.

other times, death happens. and no matter how it does ~ quickly, quietly, dramatically, dispassionately ~ we're not ready. and we're reminded that life is not what we think it is.

when last we spoke, i was going on and on about running this, that and the other race. the idea of it felt good and solid and in its way, important.

within minutes of finishing saturday's event, i learned there had been a death in my family. then, this morning, bombs devastated the boston marathon.

suddenly "this, that and the other" has to be re-evaluated. plans have to adapt. perspective is evolving on the fly. 

as often as possible, the mandatories in life should be our own, not someone else's. what's "good" and "important" is ours to decide. and it's probably worth considering if there's such a thing as "solid."

our time here will be over in the blink of an eye. move quickly.

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We are now faced with the fact that tomorrow is today. We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. In this unfolding conundrum of life and history, there is such a thing as being too late. Procrastination is still the thief of time. Life often leaves us standing bare, naked and dejected with a lost opportunity. The "tide in the affairs of men" does not remain at the flood; it ebbs. We may cry out desperately for time to pause in her passage, but time is deaf to every plea and rushes on. Over the bleached bones and jumbled residue of numerous civilizations are written the pathetic words: "Too late." There is an invisible book of life that faithfully records our vigilance or our neglect. "The moving finger writes, and having writ moves on..."

~ martin luther king, jr.