Dear Lord, I've been asked, nay commanded, to thank Thee for the Christmas turkey before us... a turkey which was no doubt a lively, intelligent bird... a social being... capable of actual affection... nuzzling its young with almost human- like compassion. Anyway, it's dead and we're gonna eat it. Please give our respects to its family...

Berke Breathed, Bloom Country Babylon

That’s for a little Christmas cheer.

***

What can I say mates?
What a year it has been.

[[ mood ]] blah

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Is it not peculiar how often people forget their vulnerability to the valor of time?

What a year it has been …

Dante writes that Death is cruel. Donne says it is but a short sleep before eternal life. Dylan claims that Death shall have no dominion. Dickinson personifies Death as a gentleman waiting on her. The fragility of life and the might of time remind one will inevitably embrace the coldness of death. I fear it not. Perhaps it is true to say I have never lived. For it is those who have lived that fear death. After all, is it not only when one sees the wonders of life that one fears the callousness of death? And, is it not only when one knows of the joy of living that one dreads the notion of lying still? Is it not true that only when you have live that you learn to fear the might of Death? Then again, is it not that you have lived for much too long that you wish Death to come? After all, how can one not be tired of living if there is no Life to it?

How many, I wonder, shall live to grasp that life’s only scarcity is Time? So many forget to learn the simple notion of how Time works while they can for they are always seemingly a little too busy for life’s little pleasures. Time waits not for anyone and it steals on like a thief so silently that it is almost in our nature that we overlook its significance. How painful is it to remember that every moment gone is never to return. Yet, how imprudent our race remains to be when we chase for only physical and material thinks of which we misguidedly believe to be noteworthy. Is not Time more precious that diamonds, mansions and cars? After all, what use is all that when you have no Time.

It is rather effortless to forget how quickly Time slips away. It is not like attempting to forget the suffering when one experiences the death of a dear one or the departure of a dear friend. For those sufferings, if remain at heart for long enough could destroy a soul as strong as Hercules. Grief is a powerful tool to kill. Time, too, of course can kill. Yet, it is a much more silent and gradual process and thus it is perhaps true to say a more painful weapon. And, it is much because of this that we forget its effects on us – not only as our hair turns grey or our legs weaken and our eyes fade but rather as we watch our youthful and childlikeness walk away from us towards Hell much before we ourselves do.

Time is much too great a force to fight against. Don’t bother trying!

We have seen of the fragility of life and the might of Death for the past months with the Indian Ocean Tsunami, the Katrina Hurricane and the Kashmir earth quakes. Perhaps, as Shakespeare put it, life is but a candle. The problem is, you just cannot forsee when the wind would be too strong.

Brock writes that the easiest (and neat) way to kill a man is to ‘see that he lives somewhere in the middle of the twentieth century, and leave him there.’ Now, that is Time slaying men! I live in the twenty first century waiting for its effect to slay me. Yet, as I live, I wish to remember I have only this much Time left and that I have to live before I die. For it makes little difference if you have really lived or if you have lived too much before you die as Death is inevitable. And on those days where I forget, be kind to remind me that every moment, if not treasure is gone, gone and gone.



Cheers.
May you have a good year ahead.

[[ music ]] Coldplay's Talk
[[ book ]] Chaucer's The Knight's Tale
[[ mood ]] working

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On some days, you wake up feeling what a wonderful world it is out there. On other nights, you cry yourself to sleep waiting for those days to come. That’s life. Just when you have lived, you learn that you will one day die. Just when you know of joy, you embrace sorrow equally. Just when you have met bliss, you set a date with pain. The world is set in opposites, and we look helplessly for the balance to stay in the game.

Some forget that the world works this way. Some forget that we should all indulge in life equally as we coddle ourselves with death. So many live a life wanting only the sun to shine, the rain never to come, spring to last eternally, winter left at bay, sounds of laughter always near, and wailing and crying far, far away. And, every so often, they forget that spring is as precious as winter, life is as dear as death and sunshine is to be prized as highly as raindrops.

They forget there is beauty in tears as there is in mirth. They don’t remember the splendor of leaves falling as there is when flowers bloom in spring. They disregard the gentleness of rain falling as there is in the warmth of the sun. They overlook significance the less pleasant feelings, less beautiful weather, less welcomed things and hope only for the opposite.

But because the world is arranged in opposites – as the tide will rise and the tide will fall, as there will be summer, there will be winter, as there will be friends, there will be foes, we shall never be spared from sorrow as we are gifted with joy and we shall never escape tears as we are granted laughter. Yet, so many forget their capacity to experience more than joy alone, they forget their ability to feel sorrow. So many ignore their ability to feel pain as they are caught up with the often misleading notion of comfort.

And every so often, they forget it’s more important to see than to look for nature has much too great a force to remain the same. We forget that we need to listen and not hear for you may never know one’s word should not be repeated the next time. And, we forget that there is a dire need to feel and not just touch for the heart and the guts are there for a purpose. We forget, that one day we, too, may be blind and deaf and numb to all around us and hold on only to what’s in the mind.

So many forget.

So many forget the little wonders in the world, acknowledging only what is apparent. So many forget that the beauty of nature lies in God’s finer touches as the significance of a painting lies in the artist’s finer strokes. Beauty lies not on the surface – it’s in the bones.

Humans forget as humans do. I forget – even when I do not want to.


Cheers.

[[ mood ]] working

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