By the time we hit fifty, we have learned our hardest lessons. We have found out that only a few things are really important. We have learned to take life seriously, but never ourselves.
Sometimes I have my doubts. But, then maybe we all do, although I don't know that for sure. All I know is that occasionally, I surprise myself. This comes from a man who for many years secretly admired his own seeming immortality, and severely tested the structure, the very nature, dubious as it now is seen, of such a belief.
Possibly it's the years and the resulting accumulation of experiences and incidents. Or, maybe it's more than that. More than the sum of what parts I see as the benchmarks, the components of my learning curve. I guess what I'm trying to say is that through all the mystery and wonder I've had the privilege to wander through in my life, some of it has left an indelible, precious imprint.
Waist deep in moving water, my loop extending, reaching out to the dimple that expands somewhere deep in my heart. What could it be to have every cast land my delicate fly in the center. To split the sometimes harsh wind numbing my hands with an arrow so sharp...
I wander, without regard to time or destination, downstream. The wind is at my back now, pushing the sun ever closer to the horizon. And though the wind is merciless, I still see the rings, more clearly than I ever thought possible. And I now understand why this is, feeling the pull as I send out another arrow.
Straight to the expanding ring that is my heart.