The True Joy of Life is the Trip

The Station

-by Robert Hastings

Tucked away in our subconscious minds is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long, long trip that almost spans the continent. We're traveling by passenger train, and out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hills, of biting winter and blazing summer and cavorting spring and docile fall.

But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station. There will be bands playing, and flags waving. And once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true. So many wishes will be fulfilled and so many pieces of our lives finally will be neatly fitted together like a completed jigsaw puzzle.

How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering ... waiting, waiting, waiting, for the station.

However, sooner or later we must realize there is no one station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us. "When we reach the station, that will be it!" we cry. Translated it means, "When I'm 18, that will be it! When I buy a new 450 SL Mercedes Benz, that will be it! When I put the last kid through college, that will be it! When I have paid off the mortgage, that will be it! When I win a promotion, that will be it! When I reach the age of retirement, that will be it! I shall live happily ever after!"

Unfortunately, once we get it, then it disappears. The station somehow hides itself at the end of an endless track. "Relish the moment" is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24: "This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." It isn't the burdens of today that drive men mad. Rather, it is regret over yesterday or fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who would rob us of today.

So, stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot oftener, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more and cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.

An addition to the family...

Meet my new grand-kitty.

He's just like a grand-kid, except he's covered with fur, and he purrs.

Other than that, the similarities are remarkable! He demands attention around the clock (because everyone else's sole reason for existing is to be at his beck and call!) According to him, the whole house is his personal play area. He wants to eat all the time, which includes chewing on things that aren't meant to be edible, such as the telephone cord! And of course, he thinks 2:00 a.m. is the perfect time for you to wake up and play. So you see...grand-kids, grand-kitties...quite similar!

This is my daughter's kitty, "Buns". I took these with my cell phone camera. Not the photographic equipment of choice, but the quality isn't all that bad, considering that fact. I am having trouble sizing them here. I'll work on it and perhaps will correct it at another time.

(Thank you very much to my friend, Ali, who helped teach me how to resize them.)

"Oh, The Pictures I Might Have Made..."

"...but I could have told you, Vincent, this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you."

-D. McLean

"And my aim in my life is to make pictures and drawings, as many and as well as I can; then, at the end of my life, I hope to pass away, looking back with love and tender regret, and thinking, 'Oh, the pictures I might have made!'"

-Vincent van Gogh

19 November 1883

Tick...Tock...Tick...Tock...

2005 is winding down. Did I spend the past year wisely? Did I keep any of the promises that I made to myself on the night of December 31, 2004? And most importantly, will I make a conscientious effort not to repeat the same mistakes in this approaching year as I have in the departing one? No. No. And...NO! (Hey, what can I say, I'm a slacker--but at least I'm an honest slacker!)