We hiked Mt. Greylock yesterday, the highest mountain in Massachusetts. The trail began with half a mile of spring beauties peeping at us through the leaf litter of last fall's dead leaves. These beautiful little flowers carpeted the forest floor, acres and acres of them.
Spring beauties are another ephemeral wildflower. Here today, gone next week.
We are also here today and gone in a few decades. None of us will live to see the 22nd century. Probably our children will not live that long either. Even my grandchildren (born in 2000 and 2003) are unlikely to see the next century.
Ouch! That unpleasant thought is an indicator of stress. That pang in the heart is the feeling of stress.
Everything that is born grows old and dies. The "spring" of life and beautiful bodies can last until almost 40. Then aging begins to become apparent, little by little, and oh-so-slowly.
"Let's don't think about it" is one way to continue our delusion, which is certainly more pleasant than truth.
Life is ephemeral. Do we have the courage to face truth?
Or shall we continue to sleepwalk through our life?
"Life is not truly Life while the thought of death can still disturb it."
Karlfried Graf Durckheim
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