Beth and I walked at Chapman Dam state park on the 14th, a beautiful area about 10 miles from here, where the season is beginning to express itself. The spring peepers have deposited their eggs in a few of the more reliable bog puddles, and Spring Beauty flowers are very common in the open woodland. The west branch of the Tionesta Creek forms a large pond where it has been dammed to form the named park, and there is a suspension bridge upstream of the dam.
The remaining picture is of a red oak tree which we have been nurturing since we found it sprouting from an acorn in our flower garden. This tree has refused to die in its short lifespan, having had its young leaves stripped by deer and caterpillars twice, so we finally decided to plant it permanently in the middle of the yard where hopefully it outlives us.
A few days ago I overheard two women talking in a store, when one of them said, " I would like to be 36 again...Those were my best years..I felt good...etc" That had me reflecting about my own past, and I honestly think that some of my most productive years were between the years of 37 and 40, following a divorce, when I spent thousands of hours walking and writing in solitude. I had the free time and discipline to pursue serious, intense questions about life and the nature of reality, which led me to inner revelations which I still rely upon to the present day. I had been fortunate to have parents who loved me unconditionally, and they gave me consistent moral guidance along with the freedom to be self reliant. My present peace of mind I attribute to those strong foundations, as well as good genes, daily exercise, never smoking and rarely drinking alcohol. Mentally, both Beth and I have noticed a loss of short term memory, which we jokingly call the 'ten second rule'-if more than ten seconds has passed, a subject often slips our mind. Such lapses are humorous rather than disturbing, and laughter seems to be a prerequisite for aging gracefully. No doubt there are people our age whose physical and mental problems are far worse than ours, so a certain humility and gratitude are also necessary.
That woman in the store did not wish to be very young, rather she appreciated the hard earned lessons that a few decades of living had offered her, but she also remembered the physical prowess of her thirties that twenty additional years had taken away. Growing old happens slowly enough that physical changes are subtle at first, and a fading memory makes it difficult to recall exactly what one has lost until one sees a photograph from twenty years earlier; then the wrinkles and gray hairs of the present become obvious. Inwardly, something from ones childhood never changes, and youthful silliness and spontaneous joy emerge if one allows them-at least within those of us fortunate enough to have had good memories to hold onto. How much of human happiness is genetic and how much is nurture I cannot say, but I feel blessed to have had an enduring portion of both to sustain me as the years have passed...As for the 'ultimate' meaning of life, my intuitive impulses since I was a young man have always leaned towards learning of love...what it is, how to give and receive it to ourselves, to other people, to other life forms and to all things under Creation. I have forgiveness for people who have made mistakes along the way so long as they have accepted them as opportunities for growth and redemption towards that ideal of compassion and love that the word 'God' represents. However, when I witness people my age who still harbor prejudices and hate and anger towards other people or life forms, I consider them to have wasted decades of life. If you have been fortunate enough to reach 50 plus years of age without realizing the unity of all of Creation, you have truly squandered all that you have been given.
