Waking in expectation of change

 

Sunday, September 22, 2013

 

The rain came late, shaking me awake with its rattle on the glass.

The weatherman predicted thunder, but I heard none – only the beat of rain’s fingers on the windows matched by the pounding inside of me.

My year changes and the green leaves outside these windows dawn with bleeding edges that promise to turn red or yellow, and finally brown.

Global warming or not, my world doesn’t end quickly with a boom or bang, but gradually fades, each piece of existence expiring in its own sweet time.

When I was young, I always ached to live forever, calculating my end of days to new medical advances so that I might see more of the world than my ancestors did.

Now, however, I realize long life some with a similar price as great power. The longer you survive in either, the more lonely you become. With one, you see your friends and family vanish. With the other, you distrust what they expect from you, and cast them away.

Chinese wisdom would have us learn that we must live the first to the fullest in what time we have, and to cast away the power when its burden outlasts its benefit.

Meanwhile, I walk to a new, cooler world in the full expectation of change.