Dying well. |
I am reminded of how much we need this contrast of life
and death. The season of plenty gave us
too much plenty. At first we
rejoiced. Then we relaxed. Finally, we languished. Is this all there is? We did not even see how full our plates were
anymore. How can you know fullness if
you do not know emptiness?
But the Sun King has weakened once again, falling back to
the West. His fingers do not stretch as
far as they used to, and he no longer burns us in chastisement for our lazy
entitlement. Soon, he will be all but
gone. I have heard the drums in the
forest. They are coming for him.
Meanwhile, the squirrels scurry frantically, storing away
as much food as possible. They at least
can appreciate what they have. Soon we,
too, will be full of appreciation—but for what we have lost, not for what we
have now. Winter looms in the near distance,
another obstacle on the path. Another
season of emptiness to give us blessed comparison and renew our hope through
death. It occurs to me that perhaps
there are no obstacles on the path after all.
Perhaps the obstacles are the
path.