My birthday is tomorrow. A milepost that prompts one to ponder our history and future.
We all have a fate. We can speculate whether it's predestined or subject to free will but, regardless which holds, time will pass, events will happen, our lives change. Eventually our future arrives and, faster than a speeding motorcycle, transform into the past.
I'm climbing the ziggurat of my own destiny and wonder what will happen next. Unlike some I don't aspire to be a pompous panjandrum wielding power and wealth; rather, I seek satori and the chance to serve others. The world needs help, not exploitation, and I hear a clear clarion call. I grok this, dude.
On one hand I miss my prelapsarian past with profound sadness. Two years ago I had eyesight. Now I don't. Pardon the pun but I didn't see that coming. Before blindness arrived I was vaguely content with the munificent gifts of life. As the song says, you don't appreciate what you have until it's gone. Now that truth cuts deep. When I walk down a public street I face heightened probability of getting hurt, as I did two weeks ago tripping on an unseen curb. I suffer pedestrian injuries, in both senses of that word, often but refuse to stop living adventurously. I chase fun like an excited dog.
Let's turn to the positive. My past and future are connected by a thread -- nay, a cable: my sense of purpose. I welcome new opportunities despite challenges that increase with time. Ultimately, despite the hardships of senescence, we need to realize that having a future -- with fertile possibilities -- beats hitting death's impasse. I'm privileged to be able to explore the future. I almost wasn't -- and won't forget that sad detour. Be grateful for what you have.
And let's make the world a better place, full of joy and happiness.
