Oh Yeah,
Life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone.
~ J. C. Melloncamp, Storyteller
Sometimes, the very best we can hope for is a pause. Life does go on, regardless of who we are, who it is that have joined us on our journey, how many family members visit our bedside, or how many of our friends share a crying emoji when word gets out that our business has been torched. Yes, even when the thrill is gone, life goes on.
Life does go on, doesn’t it? Even when all we need is a pause, maybe to catch our breath, to let out the dog patiently waiting by the door, or make the microwave oven stop beeping. One would think that there has to be a way to get the gears to stop turning, for time to stop ticking, and for chaos to yield to order. Unless, you know of a breaker to throw or knob to turn, to stop the earth from spinning on its axis and the planets to stop orbiting the sun, there isn’t. The very best we can hope for is a pause, a few brief seconds, or minutes, so that we can be free of what causes our pain, our angst, and our sorrow. What good can come out of a pause?
What would happen if we could string together a few of those pauses? Could they could become moments, and string moments into mindsets, and mindsets into habits and habits into a renewed purpose, and a new purpose into hope? Not just any hope, but a real, lasting hope that we cannot deny. A hope that reminds us that we are blessed and that our today can be the best day of our entire lives? We could begin to think of our lives not as a series of ticks, sequential and perfectly spaced, but as breaths to savor, to remember and to share. What can you do with a pause? We can embrace them, for the breaths we have been given will shape our thoughts and aspirations and will become the very essence of our lives.
Will there be pain? Of course; sorrow? Bank on it; mischief and mayhem? Yes and without a doubt. But there will also be new life, new opportunities, and true companionship with whom we can share those fleeting pauses. Each will last but a blink, and then be replaced by another, then another.
These pauses are uniquely ours to treasure. No bureaucrat can govern away from us, muffle our voices with a useless piece of fabric, or burden us to personify an oxymoronic lexicon that is designed to create distance when the social is what heals; when what the hurting may be yearning for is nothing more than the exchange of a compassionate embrace.
Yeah, life goes on, long after the thrill is gone. The more we see of the future, the more we yearn for the past.
Why do you ask, Ivy? 2 +2 = 4!
Thanks for reading, liking, and sharing.
I know, Pup. You have been waiting by the door for a while. Thanks for not leaving a puddle. What do you mean, I better check my shoes?
Al and his faithful, but incontinent sidekick, Ivy the WonderPup.
You could have barked a little louder. We could have gotten you a waiver—I didn’t know the mask gives you hairballs?