As Charles Dickens penned, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair..."
Yes, all this and more. And yet more to come. All ways, the best of times, all ways the worst of times; all ways something in the middle. The middle way, the path that I have, at times, reluctantly set foot on. The path that in my heart, I feel/know/intuit is the only road. This way beckons me to look at what is present before me, now. This path invites me to engage with what is in this very instant as no other. Not to turn away from past as passed. Indeed it is gone, but to forget what was learned is folly as well. Nor to never turn to the future for brief glimpses of what may be is to grope around in the dark when the light switch is within reach.
I reach backward for the hands of elders and the wise who
have gone before me. I look forward to the fresh vision of youth and seers alike. Now, I live here, open eyed, open hearted, open to all this.