Yesterday my friend, George – who, by the by, is a photographic-artist – sent me a photo. He captured the view on the 28th of January (his birth-date). During the past 24 hours or so I have paused, stepped aside, and then spent a few minutes looking at and reflecting upon this photograph. Here is George’s photograph. I follow it with a question and then with some of what emerged for me as I sat with and reflected upon it.
Gentle reader: What emerges for you as you reflect upon the photograph?
For me, the following emerged – as I type these words I am not sure the order that each of the following emerged.
I look at the outside world through the lens of my spirit, soul and heart. I have, within me, obstacles that hinder me from seeing ‘all of what resides outside of myself.’ All that resides outside of me is, at best, fleeting: This too shall pass. Much of what resides outside of my self is ill-defined and a bit cloudy. I can clearly see the ‘beams in my own eyes’ and this awareness disturbs me. This awareness also confirms that I am, at my best, an imperfect human being.
I espouse to be a follower of Jesus-the-Christ (again, my imperfection, keeps me from saying with conviction that I am a ‘Christian’). Jesus-the-Christ was clear: If I choose to follow Him then I must pick up my cross and… The photograph reminds me of the Cross that I refuse to pick up – perhaps this huge cross is a compilation of many smaller crosses that I have refused to pick up along my life’s journey. My ‘Cross’ does not have to be life-depleting. I am thinking of the ‘Cross’ of ‘compassion,’ ‘mercy,’ ‘forgiveness,’ ‘reconciliation,’ and ‘healing’ that I have refused to take up and offer to the other(s).
I am thinking of the ‘Seasons of My Life.’ I am now considered, by age at least, to be an ‘Elder.’ Among other things it means that a majority of my life – say the Spring and Summer – are less visible to me (and less available). The majority of my life today involves the top two quadrants of ‘Fall’ and ‘Winter.’ By-the-by, gentle reader, I am more aware today of the power of the words the winter of my discontent. Like the passing clouds, each season is fleeting – each will pass away. ‘Life goes on’ is more than a pretty phrase.
I am also thinking of the ‘Four Seasons’ – where I live it is truly ‘the dead of winter.’ We can, however, have many fall-like days and recently we have had hints of spring and summer. Our skies are mostly dark and gray; the days of blue skies touched by wispy clouds is an anomaly. It will be another forty-five days before the lower panes become larger and the top two panes (fall-winter) become smaller.
I am sitting here typing these words and wondering: If the external world is truly fleeting – and I believe it is – then what is permanent?