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DON'T DIE WITHOUT EVER HAVING LIVED
What is there that can compare with a life well lived, one filled with memories that will forever warm our hearts, and will one day enable us to recall and perhaps relive those unforgettable moments?
Unfortunately, multitudes of people who look back over their lives today, find that they have garnered few memories that are even worth remembering. And the reason’s plain; they have never climbed out of the rut of mediocrity; never risked anything, never dared anything, and consequently have never experienced the exhilaration of courageously overcoming or triumphing over anything. They live their lives merely trying to play it safe, and missing out on so much of what life is all about.
Such well meaning people remind me of the fellow way back in the hills who was sitting on the porch of his old run down old shack. As he sat there, slowly rocking back and forth, a neighbor came by and started talking to him about his crops. He asked him if he’d planted any corn? The man replied, “Nope. Weather’s likely ta’ be too hot to try raisin’ corn.”
The fellow then asked him if he’d planted any tobaccy? Spitting a large gob of brown juice, the farmer said, “Nope. I ‘llowed there might be too much rain fer ta’baccy ta grow good.”
Finally, the neighbor asked him, “Since you didn’t plant no corn, an’ ya didn’t plant no tobaccy, that jest leaves one other thing. How much cotton did ja’ plant?”
The old farmer, with spittle from his tobacco juice trickling down over his unshaved chin replied, “Didn’t plant no cotton neither. I wuz a’feared them boll weevils would jus eat a cotton crop plumb up.”
Now, looking a bit surprised, the other man said, “Well then, what did ja plant?”
Dropping his chin down low, and raising one eyebrow, he squinted over the top of his glasses, and then, in a quiet, confidential tone of voice, he said, “ Nawthin …. I jis played ‘er safe.”
All too many are living their lives playing it safe, trying to experience their lives vicariously through the books they read, the TV programs they watch, and the video games to which they’ve become addicted. Millions are permitting them to become substitutes for experiencing any excitement and adventure for themselves. Anything involving risk, hardship, or daring adventure they avoid at all costs.
Such people will one day be left to wonder what it would have been like if they had pursued at least some of their dreams, risen to face some challenge, boldly attempted to do something that they’d always wanted to do. Of course such exploits usually do involve some risk, but risk is a normal part of any life worth living. Life was never meant to be lived in a cocoon. An old Indian proverb says, “If you do not enter the tiger’s den, you cannot catch his cubs.”
Someone once wrote that, “Adventure, with all its necessary wildness and risk, is a deeply ingrained longing that’s engraved upon the soul of a man. In some of us it’s been misdirected, or buried and forgotten; but it is nevertheless within us. Like a faint distant voice crying out to be turned loose, freed to live out the dreams that every man would like to experience.”
Far too many will someday be forced to regretfully ask, “Why didn’t I break free at least once, and go after my dream? What was I thinking?” Too late they awaken and realize that life has passed them by.
They’ve scarcely had even one challenging experience, one genuine adventure that’s worth remembering or worth passing on to their children and grandchildren. And the saddest thing about it is, they never even made one really serious attempt at trying to make their aspirations and dreams come true. They talked about them, imagined what it would be like to experience them, and then put them on a shelf labeled “Things I’m going to do … someday.” The years go quickly by. And then one day it becomes all too apparent that they’ve waited too long, All that they CAN do now is to fantasize about what their life could have been like.
When I lived in the far north there were so many times I heard the cries of the wild geese and watched as they winged their way overhead. Their great V formation could be plainly seen stretching across sky. It was during those years that I came across a story that was simply called “The Barnyard Goose”. I believe that nothing I can think of so aptly describes what I’ve been trying to say.
As the story goes “A flock of wild geese were flying south for the winter. As they looked down from the sky they could see a barnyard where a farmer was giving several chickens corn to eat. One goose who prided himself on his wit and wisdom, thought to himself, “What’s the use of all this flying south to get food when those chickens are getting it for nothing?” Deciding he would cash in on the windfall he told his friends good-bye. They urged him to stay with them because winter would soon be arriving.. The goose, however, said, “No.” I can enjoy the warm comfort of the chicken house and won’t have to spend all that time and energy flying south. So he stayed.
Winter came and the goose was quite happy with himself over the decision. He had all the corn he could eat. The farmer had taken a real liking to him, and the other fowls in the barnyard did not object to his presence.. How glad he was that he was smart enough to recognize a good thing.
When the spring came all was well. The earth warmed again and the breezes blew softly. Soon the wild geese began returning for the summer. The barnyard goose heard their cry as they flew over, and his nature told him to join them. With heart beating fast with anticipation to again greet his fellows in the sky, he stretched forth his wings to rise. However, to his sorrow he fell back to earth. He tried again and again but each time he slammed back to the ground. During the summer, while eating the farmer’s corn he had gotten fat and now to his dismay he found he could no longer follow the call of the wild that surged in his heart.
…..The application is clear, and the truth certain. How often we choose the easy way, only to find that eventually it robs us of the very best. We limit ourselves to the barnyard when we were created to soar in the heavens.”
I THINK MY SOUL IS LIKE A TAME OLD DUCK,
WADDLING ABOUT, IN THE BARNYARD MUCK,
FAT AND LAZY WITH USELESS WINGS,
AHH, BUT SOMETIMES, … SOMETIMES,
WHEN THE NORTH WIND SINGS,
AND THE WILD ONES HURTLE OVERHEAD,
IT REMEMBERS SOMETHING LOST AND DEAD,
AND COCKS A WARY PUZZLED EYE,
AND MAKES A FEEBLE ATTEMPT TO FLY.
IT’S FAIRLY CONTENT,
WITH THE SHAPE IT’S IN.
BUT IT’LL NEVER BE THE DUCK,
THAT IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN.
.....The bottom line is that far too many die without ever having really lived. I have tried to avoid that mistake. Some thought it was foolish, that the barnyard was the better path to take. But now as I am about to reach my 75th milestone and I look back over the years, I thank my God for the treasure chest of memories that I have been blessed with. Would I make the same choice again, if I had the chance?
………In a heartbeat.
Posted by cdrnorth at April 30, 2008 12:56 PM