Age

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. 

So goes a poem written about passed Australian war heroes. And on the day of my birth, I ponder the number that always increases, always more never less - the economist's dream. The path of my life - that which I choose, and that which chooses me - takes many twists and turns. New challenges appear where routine once stood, old challenges fade, or transform, or disappear. The friends of yesteryear are but distant memories - only the precious few remain, a testament to the timeliness of the spirit. That which is useful for my journey appears at the right time, and will remain for as long as either of us require it. To grow is to feel loss, for when I grow, that which remains unchanged is lost.

My struggle to maintain links to long distant memories is a challenge to growth of my spirit - my attempt to keep in contact represents my resistance to lose something that was once dear to me. But I know that divine, spirit food is current - in the NOW - and trying to save it for sustenance on a future day will not work. Thus I face my resistance to change.

I give thanks for the gifts I receive, and for the warriors who graced the battlefields that I once fought upon. I pray for more gifts to light my way. I pray for the friends that come and go, for the instruments of the spirit who have given so willingly so that I might prosper. I pray that I too become an instrument of the spirit, so that my words, deeds, and presence grow something in the people that I come into contact with.