Darkness falls on everyone. Like seasons, it comes and goes — some days radiant with hope, light, and awe; others shadowed by trepidation and tinged with hopelessness.
As Forrest Gump reminds us: “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re going to get.”
To a degree, Mr. Gump and his mother were right. If we wander through life with little more than a wish and a prayer, choosing confections at random, we’ll taste both sweetness and bitterness. I must admit I have shaken hands with tartness as of late.
I let my footsteps wander. I allowed the wind to push me here and there. I surrendered to life’s arbitrariness. And so, my box of chocolates has held more disappointment than delight.
In recent days, a few events have shaken me awake. Leonard Cohen was the catalyst. Reintroduced to his song Anthem, I didn’t just hear hope — I heard hope with action. His impressionable lyrics stitched themselves into the fabric of my thoughts.
Carrying Cohen’s words with me on a recent day trip sparked new insights. Visiting my Granddaughter’s Iowa State University-future, we walked around the gorgeous campus, browsed ISU-branded gear in anticipation of fall enrollment, attended the Iowa State Symphony Orchestra, and spent hours in the car immersed in “I love this one” jazz.
One more thing: the excitement of a friend pursuing a life-changing adventure lit my soul. Random, perhaps, but when I donated to support the cause, an unexpected blessing followed. A kind voice message of thanks arrived, with a phone number and the words: “Let’s have a conversation! It would be nice to catch up.”
I froze.
The message was kind and thoughtful. Of course, catching up would be nice. But in my present condition — it’s a little dark in here, ya’ know — I feared my shadows might dim the conversation, or worse, detract from another’s dream. I couldn’t allow that.
Yet this became the final piece. The events didn’t simply fall into place like a puzzle; they had to meld together. It took more than a week, but I have been reawakened. Yes, I was in the dark. My heart and soul were cracked. Yet light, as it always does, seeped into the fissures, filling them with peace and hope.
I’ve been reminded: allowing randomness is no way to live. Choice followed by action encourages hope. A light-filled future does not depend on age. It depends on gratitude, thoughtfulness, compassion, generosity, openness to interruptions, the desire to better the world, and the eagerness to listen and truly see what surrounds us.
“The birds they sang / At the break of day / Start again, I heard them say / Don’t dwell on what has passed away / Or what is yet to be.”
“Ring the bells that still can ring / Forget your perfect offering / There is a crack, a crack in everything / That’s how the light gets in.” — Leonard Cohen, Anthem
I will make that call. And perhaps you, too, have a call waiting — a chance to let the light in.
