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This came to mind. There is a beautiful song by David Gates of Bread. It was a hit in the mid-70's. He sings of how we take people for granted especially with those we're supposed to love. We can take them for granted in many subtle ways. We don't see it until they're lost or gone (the lyrics have these words) and then it is simply too late.
We don't know the day, hour or the very next moment when they may be suddenly lost or gone.
I've learnt this from hindsight that it really is true. For me, so many of the simple things around me are beautiful, but the contentment around me only came with lessons from the past. It is a delightful contentment that follows my ambitions.
I too, get busy very busy sometimes but that's because I choose to be. I choose my priorities. I choose to take on things. It's a lovely busy-ness, exciting, vibrant, energetic as I do write stories and I love what I do. My busy-ness reflects who I am. But I do stop to listen a lot of the time. Stop to play. Stop to rest. If something or someone flees, the truth is it hardly ever comes back even if it was meant to be because so many other aspects of life get in the way. Remember, we live in a new age.
Sometimes you may hear the return of footsteps after seasons have passed but that's time already wasted. When you stop in your tracks, everything becomes a whole. You know where everyone is and where everything lies...i.e. metaphorically speaking. Your friends and those you love and who love you wait in the right places. Which is how it should be and how it is for me.
We can choose to love, when to, or not to. People may try to help us do the right thing but that doesn't always work. Life stays the best teacher. Never go to your coffin in a huff where you could have lounged in a flower's petalled-hammock for just that bit longer. Long enough to catch a brilliant sunset that would give you a kinder ride with death than you expected.
I would think this applicable to any individual in the human race, no matter what our roles.
posted by Suzan Abrams, email: firstname.lastname@example.org | 03:29
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