Remember when we were teenagers and couldn’t wait to enjoy
the supposed fruits of adulthood? As a wise man said: youth is wasted on the
young. So many truths of youth take on a different patina when viewed with experienced
eyes. Who wouldn’t love to have the energy, the recuperative power, the hair
and above all the knees of our youth? But at what price?
Looking back at the young me I was filled with self as only the young can be, I thought I had all the answers and was quick to offer them up, usually unasked. And I was clueless to downright dismissive on spiritual matters. I placed possessions, accomplishments, and titles on the pedestal of success, expecting them to provide personal significance, holding these things as important, even paramount, chasing the fleeting chimera of perceived entitlement, believing spiritual living was archaic, pointless in these modern times. So, the question is: Would we surrender the work done to Live on the Spiritual Basis, the visible and invisible scars so well earned, forgotten, to recapture youths glow and promise?
I can only answer for me, but no, I wouldn't. The price too high where spiritual pride, self-righteousness, the hedonism, especially at the expense of others are on the bill. So, I guess I'm stuck with thinning hair, afternoon naps and the memory of a 28-inch waist. It’s not so bad though, although I may have to don reading glasses my vision has never been better, I see with the clarity that comes by trusting and relying upon infinite God, rather than my finite self. I have learned the hard lesson of refraining from answering unasked questions, having learned through bitter experience that as much as I may wish to help, that help is not welcomed if offered uninvited.
So, when the day comes, hopefully sometime from now, when we somersault into eternity our life will be measured not by the love we received or even earned, but by the love and the blessings we gave anonymously, this truly the mark of our lives, not the things we owned or the accolades we garnered. I really do miss the hair and the knees though.
Looking back at the young me I was filled with self as only the young can be, I thought I had all the answers and was quick to offer them up, usually unasked. And I was clueless to downright dismissive on spiritual matters. I placed possessions, accomplishments, and titles on the pedestal of success, expecting them to provide personal significance, holding these things as important, even paramount, chasing the fleeting chimera of perceived entitlement, believing spiritual living was archaic, pointless in these modern times. So, the question is: Would we surrender the work done to Live on the Spiritual Basis, the visible and invisible scars so well earned, forgotten, to recapture youths glow and promise?
I can only answer for me, but no, I wouldn't. The price too high where spiritual pride, self-righteousness, the hedonism, especially at the expense of others are on the bill. So, I guess I'm stuck with thinning hair, afternoon naps and the memory of a 28-inch waist. It’s not so bad though, although I may have to don reading glasses my vision has never been better, I see with the clarity that comes by trusting and relying upon infinite God, rather than my finite self. I have learned the hard lesson of refraining from answering unasked questions, having learned through bitter experience that as much as I may wish to help, that help is not welcomed if offered uninvited.
So, when the day comes, hopefully sometime from now, when we somersault into eternity our life will be measured not by the love we received or even earned, but by the love and the blessings we gave anonymously, this truly the mark of our lives, not the things we owned or the accolades we garnered. I really do miss the hair and the knees though.
© Vincent Lee Jones Living In Spirit
All Rights Reserved
Miracles Of Recovery, The Secret,
Wayne Dyer, Recovery, Addiction, Zen, Emmet Fox, Opioids, Four Agreements,
Chopra, Heroin, Einstein, AA, Healing Path, Law Of Attraction, God, Buddha,
Jesus
No comments:
Post a Comment