Recently,
as I was listening to someone speaking about the venturesome mariners who,
centuries ago, sailed off the edge of the horizon and revealed the roundness of
the globe, it caused me to think, again, about sailing off some edges myself.
Those discerning seafarers simply did not believe what theirs and everyone’s
eyesight suggested – that the earth was flat and ships would sail over the edge
to destruction. They trusted that there was a larger and more wondrous world
out there, even though their eyes couldn’t see it. They saw through the façade
of appearances and discerned the astounding truth beyond. Like many of us, I
frequently get confounded by appearances, especially by the apparent smallness
and separateness of my life. I appear to be just a fairly old body containing a
brain that’s slowly slumping with age. Outward impressions say my faculties are
probably fading away and, before too long, I’ll be falling off the edge of old
age into who knows where. However, I often feel like those mariners of history
who held true to their vision of a spherical and spectacular world. More and
more often now, I get a glimpse of the greatness of the universe, and of my
special and necessary part in it. It is at those times that I set sail in my
life, with no borders or boundaries in sight. The edge called “old age” dissolves, and what’s left is vistas of wisdom
and happiness that stretch out
without end.
No comments:
Post a Comment