The station

Someone, who shall remain nameless gave me this story today.

I am not into all this love lovie types of poems and stories. I hated the book The Secret and find books like the Last Lecture self centred and pointless, they teach me nothing about me. This short musing made me think, life really is too short (cliched, I know) but rushing around trying to do things that lead you to a nameless goal is not what I want to be about. Trying to live and think in the present is a simple wisdom. Hope you enjoy this.

The station

Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves traveling on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at the crossings, row upon row of corn and wheat, flatlands and valleys, mountains and rolling hillside, city skylines and village halls.

But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. Once we get there all our dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. How we restlessly pace the aisles, waiting, waiting for the station.

“When we reach the station that will be it!”
“When I’m 18!”
“When I’ve paid off the mortgage!”
”When I’ve put the last kid through college!”

Sooner of later we realize there is no station, no one place to arrive once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.

“Relish the moment” is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24 “This is the day the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.” It isn’t the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets of yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.

So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, walk barefoot more often, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less.
Life must be lived as we go along.

The station will come soon enough.

JR Hastings

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.