From the time I was ten, I remember being in a hurry. I wanted to experience life to the maximum. I wanted to try to do any and everything, I was sure I was going to miss something. My answer was to be bold, aggressive, and relentless. Patience was a word I had little time for. If not path A, then option B.
Even as I write this, I see his white hair, remembering the trusted voice of Grandpa Lange.
“I recognize the urgency in you Bill. I see it in your grandfather. I will share the same advice I gave him. Take it slow and enjoy each moment for what it brings.”
As I consider my increasingly white hair, I realize my observation and advice echoes Grandpa Lange. It is in taking it slow that one permissions the touch of Life, Divinity, and others to reach our hearts and minds.
Beauty and wonder occur whether we notice or not. The stunning sunrise, filled with inspiration and hope, is there for all, and yet I often let it pass unnoticed and without regard. Acts of kindness are offered and accepted, often as private as each is public. Only those immediately touched are aware of a gift which can inspire and bring courage to all.
As important and potentially stunning as this moment might be, I naively think there is more. I believe there is more until there is not. Artists who touched my heart have passed, living on in the memories of those touched. Great storytellers who regaled us with adventure, wonder, and courage have gone silent, the sounds of their voices growing ever quieter in the hearts and minds of those who took the time to listen. With tears I remember, wishing I could remember even more.
I find myself slowing, being more deliberate in my appreciations of Divine gifts in the moment which is now. “Your marvelous doings are headline news; I could write a book full of the details of your greatness.” (Psalm 145.6). May my heart experience and my mind remember, always.