The Happy Hour of Life

Shalom and happy Sunday.

The phrase Life is short was, once upon a time, meaningless. I tried to take it in when I was young, but time moves so slowly then. I thought it referred to the possibility of being killed or acquiring a fatal illness. The natural lifespan of homo sapiens, somewhere between 70 and 90, seemed, from the vantage point of my 20s and 30s, luxuriously long, hence the phrase, Life is short, frightened me. It was like a threat, that my lengthy life might be cut short.

Yeah, well that was then and this is now. Closing in on age 60 it is clear as a bell what the phrase means. Time flies at my age, literally flies. It's kind of cool - seriously - to be capable of appreciating the reality, the idea of how long the world lives, how quickly we humans pass through incarnation. At 60, one can not take life for granted any longer. At least I can't, and I consider this a great gift.


The Tidal Basin, up close.

Daylight is precious now in the northern hemisphere; this solar year is waning quickly. In the same way that these days I appreciate the shortness of human life, in autumn I'm capable of appreciating the light in ways I can't during the summer.

Yesterday I walked for hours, wandering, gazing, taking pictures, soaking in the crystal pure autumn sunshine. It was a particularly beautiful day, with temps in the 60s F. The sky was a shocking blue. I love the cloud people, but there was something so pure about the clear sky yesterday. I felt light, as if the sky was lifting me up, out of swampy Washington DC. It was glorious.

Especially gorgeous was the Tidal Basin. There was just enough of a breeze to break up the surface of the water. The reflected sunlight was dazzling. A million diamonds could never be so beautiful.

If morning is analogous with youth, and afternoon can be compared with adulthood, and if old age is the evening of life, then right now, poised between adulthood and old age, I am in the happy hour of life. So true! Especially on a gorgeous day like yesterday.

L'chaim, y'all.


That's the Washington Monument reflected in the Tidal Basin.