Thoughts of an explorer

I am not sure if it is because it is a new year or that I am going to be sixty seven this month or if it is that I am contemplating official retirement, but a number of comments from friends the last few days have me thinking.  My friend Will challenged me to consider what might make sense or nonsence by reintroducing me to The Rubaiyat by Omar Khayyam.  Then he quoted a bunch of other interesting thoughts, both his and others.

My childhood friend, Susan, forwarded a cute but appropriate video about creating art that fits nicely into my thoughts at the moment.  I’m sorry that I can not share the link because I am not yet technically savy.  You can pull it up on my facebook page.

As a Christmas present my wife gave me a book, Divinity in Disguise, by Kevin Anderson.  “And what is the cost of that jewel of great price we call wisdom?  Not three thousand, not even three million dollars—just three decisions:  the decision to give ourselves fully to all the joy and pain that come with loving others deeply; the decision to make our lives more about spiritual growth than growth in our bankrolls or our egos; and the decision to focus our existence on a higher purpose, a noble mission that allows us to give away what suffering and joy have taught us about soulful living.”  Mr. Anderson goes on to quote Henry David Thoreau, “I have learned this at least by my experiment:  that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”  And finally, at least in this blog, he quotes Jane Welsh Carlyle:  “I am not at all the sort of person you and I took me for.”  Exciting stuff.  Now go buy his book for more interesting observations.

While this is beginning to sound like a review of other peoples’ work I would like to add a few of my own observations.

  • I have owned expensive cars, horses and watches.  I now don’t.  I am happier.
  • I have tried to gain fame and importance.  I now don’t.  I am happier.
  • I rubbed elbows with the rich, famous and powerful.  I now don’t.  I am happier.
  • I have a lovely wife, good food, good wine.  I am happier.
  • I have a pound hound rescue dog that loves me.  I am happier.
  • I have some good friends, a stove in the shed out back and some plants that depend on me.  I am happier.

As my favorite Episcopal priest, James Hugh Majors, taught me, “I’m better’n I deserve!”  Amen.

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