I only just caught my breath from the new year’s arrival and it’s already quickly reaching the halfway mark. Is time speeding up while I’m slowing down? It hardly seems possible that I’ve been retired for almost three years. None of my grandkids are little anymore; my graduated-from-nursing-school granddaughter is engaged; my second-youngest grandson drove for the first time on the freeway; my son’s youngest son is heading to college this fall. I embrace these family thresholds with warm acceptance: life is moving forward as it should.
The headlines scream otherwise. With all the hard-won victories for human rights in the past, our world seems bent on retreat. Mankind is making significant progress in understanding how all life on our planet is interconnected, yet we are witnessing what is being called the world’s 6th mass extinction. Climate change is indisputable. Democracy in America is on the ballot. Denial is not a solution. But while accepting these disturbing realities, I refuse to embrace them. In my opinion, life is not moving forward is it should, given humanity’s evolutionary expansion of emotional intelligence.
What is my place in all of this besides living green and clean? Should I join protest marches and raise my voice and a flag for what I believe is right? Certainly, I will vote. Emphatically, I will uphold the standards of impartiality in my local community. Unquestionably, I will be there to encourage my family and friends as they seek to interface with life in uncertain and perilous times. And though with all my being I sometimes want to, I will not look away.
While life lasts, I will sing in the rain. I will cherish the smallest flower growing unbeckoned along the roadside; I will adore the wayward whisps of hair on a grandson; I will celebrate family milestones. My family is my bedrock, my women friends sustain me. Anchored in the moment by the love that exists in my own heart for life and the beauty of the world that still is, I cannot help but embrace . . . hope.
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