Sunday, May 20, 2018

From the Public Page of My Private Journal

The thought simply slipped from within the shadows of my mind . . .

I think it is time to leave.

Death.  We try as hard as we can to not think about it as though not thinking about it keeps it from knocking at our door.

Of course, the specter from those shadows comes to the door of each of us at some point like it or not.

Perhaps it is natural that at my age of 83 I should find myself considering the shape of things to come.  Change comes at the blinking of an eye—whether it is ten minutes from now or ten years.  I am ready.

There are things left undone.  How few of us truly wrap up loose ends in our lives before we change, before we move on to whatever awaits us at the turning of the page.  I have pledged to do as my mother had done, return as many things as she could to the people had blessed her with them as gifts.  At her passing she was truly free of the burdens of things.  My pledge is so far unfulfilled, but I pledge to keep at it.

I long ago developed my philosophy of afterlife reality.  I am satisfied that the beliefs I have come to are completely workable for me.  Those beliefs are shaped mainly by eastern religious philosophy.  For many years I have felt that so-called Christians had so diluted and polluted the teachings of Jesus as to make what is left bare threads of what his life truly represented.  Enough said about that.

If I have regrets, and I do, they come from decisions made that were not so well thought out as I had believed.  Some of those decisions have caused harm to others.  Some, naturally, have benefited others as well as my own life.  I will stand judged not by some far off god, but by my own conscience, which I am certain may be harsher than a loving god would pronounce upon me.

Not a day goes by that I do not give thanks for the life I have been blessed to live.  I consider myself most fortunate to have survived in spite of everything I have done to distract me from a course that might have been.  I may leave little trace of my presence this time around.  I will know, and I do, what I have accomplished.  I feel satisfied that I have made a contribution to the world in which I live, though few may ever know what that has been.

Finally, I thank all of you who have walked, at least for a time, with me on the path.  You have given me more than you know, probably because I have failed to tell you so.  I tell you now with love and a grateful heart: Thank you!

Comes also from the shadows of my mind the thought . . .

Love never fails.

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