the black lullaby

The other day I was watching a TV show that came to an end in the most fascinating way. A pair of lovers who’d been separated by people and circumstances time and time again for a period of eight years, finally find each other after they’ve lost their lives. As I watched this last episode of the show I found myself crying uncontrollably and I didn’t know why. 

At first I assumed that it was because the couple had died. But then it dawned on me that my mind had sped past the reel world and jumped into the real world in that instant. I kept thinking of where all of this was going and what we were doing with our lives. We study hard, we work harder, we slave through each and every day and for what? To have it all end just like that?

We literally spend a lifetime trying to become something or someone. We shed tears over relationships, we give so much of ourselves to others… And where does it all end? Six feet under.

I thought about the people who had gone before me and how I miss them and how I hoped to see them again one day but even then, I was left with that scary thought: “would I actually see them again?” Just a lot of questions that had no answers. So I stopped crying and tried to figure out where all of this would end but then it dawned on me… That’s what we’re busy doing half of the time – thinking about where it’s going to end!

It’s like each life is this really long road, with bumps and potholes and hitchhikers and thieves and companions and carnivals and cemeteries and shortcuts and long cuts all along the way… When we’re standing at the beginning of this road we’re not really focussing on completing the 1st mile, instead we’re planning on the breaks that we’ll take and how great it’s going to be when we reach the 23rd mile. We focus on that thought so much that we don’t have time to notice the daisies on either side of the road or the picnic that has been laid out for us with champagne or the relaxing stream running by the side of the road… And the best part is, that when we reach the 23rd mile, we’ve thought about it for so long and created such great dreams around it that it never really meets our expectations. So then we start focussing on the 46th mile and start walking again…

This goes on and on until we’re suddenly hit by a truck that’s gone out of control somewhere at the 37th milepost. The journey is left incomplete and because we never stopped to take in the sights, no one remembers us, we were just passers by who didn’t make a difference. Not to the daisies, not to the picnic and certainly not to the stream.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s time to stop focussing on the next mile and start enjoying the walk. I know I will…