Seasons are good because they don\u2019t last forever. With eternity being the only thing that lasts, wisdom is gleaned by maximizing the seasons\u2026 recognizing what\u2019s present while it is there \u2014 not immobilized by pining for the past nor reaching only for the future. Seasons give life value.<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve been struck by the seasons shared in my current community, seasons that surpass our individual differences, differences we too often choose to use as a divisional source or force.<\/p>\n
Together, we have experienced the tenures of presidents Bush, Clinton, Bush, Obama, and Trump.<\/p>\n
Together, we have watched seven summer Olympics \u2014 in Barcelona, Atlanta, Sydney, and Athens\u2026 in Beijing, London, and most recently in Rio.<\/p>\n
Together, we cried the day Diana died\u2026 maybe, also, for Michael or Pres. Reagan. At least then our heads were bowed, our voices softened, and our hearts were full of respect.<\/p>\n
Together, still, on 9\/11, we stared at the television in shock but no awe. That remains one thing seemingly still so huge to attempt to wrap our heads around.<\/p>\n
But the experiences within these seasons shared have not always been so \u201cbig\u201d\u2026<\/p>\n
Together, we have celebrated the birth of our children, their noted growth and accomplishments \u2014 ours, too \u2014 both personal and professional. We have huddled, too, in some heartbreaking moments of mourning. I will never forget, for example, our \u201cBest Friends for a Day\u201d post, where a series of planes, trains, and automobiles in the middle of a blizzard in the wake of my sister\u2019s death on the eve of one of my son\u2019s greatest successes led to a precious, shared experience. Again, it was together.<\/p>\n
The beauty of shared experience is the \u201ctogether.\u201d The value is that it comes and goes in seasons.<\/p>\n
Are you maximizing where you are while that you are there?<\/em><\/p>\n The moving vans soon come to pack up my stuff and haul it away. No worries; the Intramuralist will continue\u2026 just from a new home base. We are moving to a new community.<\/p>\n While there is excitement in all the newness that accompanies a move, this isn\u2019t, obviously, totally easy. It\u2019s hard, in fact, for we have maximized our seasons. I wouldn\u2019t have it any other way.<\/p>\n This thought keeps swirling in my head, such seemingly simple words\u2026<\/p>\n \u201cThere is a place where the sidewalk ends<\/em> Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black<\/em> Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,<\/em> \u201cWhere the Sidewalk Ends\u201d is one of those iconic Shel Silverstein poems written to children but yet so poignantly also written to us. We often miss the joy that children inherently have; we let obstacles and other stuff get in the way. We thus miss the beauty of the seasons. Silverstein encourages us to go to the place that children know\u2026 stepping back, sensing the joy, seeing what our kids see.<\/p>\n What do they see?<\/p>\n Seasons.<\/p>\n And they see the value of sharing them together.<\/p>\n Respectfully\u2026 <\/p>\n [Photo by <\/a>Joseph Young<\/a> on <\/a>Unsplash<\/a>]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Seasons are good because they don\u2019t last forever. With eternity being the only thing that lasts, wisdom is gleaned by maximizing the seasons\u2026 recognizing what\u2019s present while it is there \u2014 not immobilized by pining for the past nor reaching only for the future. Seasons give life value. I\u2019ve been struck by the seasons shared … <\/p>\n
\nAnd before the street begins,<\/em>
\nAnd there the grass grows soft and white,<\/em>
\nAnd there the sun burns crimson bright,<\/em>
\nAnd there the moon-bird rests from his flight<\/em>
\nTo cool in the peppermint wind.<\/em><\/p>\n
\nAnd the dark street winds and bends.<\/em>
\nPast the pits where the asphalt flowers grow<\/em>
\nWe shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,<\/em>
\nAnd watch where the chalk-white arrows go<\/em>
\nTo the place where the sidewalk ends.<\/em><\/p>\n
\nAnd we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,<\/em>
\nFor the children, they mark, and the children, they know<\/em>
\nThe place where the sidewalk ends.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\nAR<\/p>\n