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Saturday 30 November 2013

Becoming ourselves

Now that I've lived long enough (50), I can do all that stuff my father used to do- look down at others disparagingly BECAUSE I am am older and supposedly wiser. However what I have learned up to my advanced age is I understand nothing. If that makes sense. What it means, I think, is that life is a fluid, moving thing. A bit like a river that we could look at all day and it would never look the same at 12 o'clock as it would 6 o'clock. Some reeds might look different, a few extra stones may have found their way into the river bed, the sun might not be shining that day. Well, yes, the river will still be running, searching for the sea but it  might not always look the same. We humans are not that dissimilar. We strive, we fail, we break, we lose, we hurt, we get back up. But the essence of who we are remains the same. I often recount the story of my beloved papa who upon seeing me as a middle -aged and greying woman remarked that I hadn't changed. I was exactly as I had been as a little girl. My personality, my core was the same.

I've recently had run-ins with politicans and think their task is possibly the worst on the planet. I've known a few of these well-known politicians long before they became 'famous' and established with the guaranteed pension. I've seen how they've changed. Politics is a profession where one is like that plasticine we played with as four years olds- malleable and yielding where self serving own goals matter. When I look back at my life, I probably played out my life the same way. I did things that enriched me, made me happy and served my ego. It took me a long time to realise that life is pretty futile and whatever we think we need to be doing is only a temporary act- the world goes on, the river runs, the sea beckons and life, is so much bigger than we are that if we look to count the drops of water from the river as they become one with the sea, we could be, well, waiting forever.

Photo copyright SvD.

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