Looking Ahead
Yesterday, I was sitting on a patio listening to music surrounded by people, most of whom I knew and most of whom I’d only come to know in the last twenty years or so. There was not a single person in the audience that I had known prior to 2004, yet many of them are well on the way to becoming close, personal friends. And I had the odd thought that if a potted plant were sentient this must be how it feels to find yourself in a new garden in the fresh soil of new friendships.
But last night, as I lay in bed and the wine wore off, I revised the analogy because life is more like a river and I’m a stone tumbling along driven by chance and circumstance. There was the luck of my birth, my father’s move back to Texas, the discovery of my future wife in downtown Houston, and the chance party where I met the musician I saw yesterday. In every case I paused long enough to gather the moss of friendships on my downstream side before being pushed on down the channel.
Although, at this point, I think I’m in calm enough water that I doubt I’ll get much further down the stream. I’m probably too heavy and the river’s lost interest. But that’s okay. Lots of people and pieces of my past lives are still with me, and this place and time is invigorating. These fourscore years have brought me much happiness, and if my past experience is any indicator the future portends well, and I am anxious to see it come.