Time has been clipping along at a frantic pace this year, and the prospects for slowing things down have so far appeared, well, essentially nullified. I’ve recently begun to dream of a time, randomly swirling somewhere in the cosmos of the not-so-distant future, when a dearth of activity would reawaken the sleeping deans of boredom.
As before, when tethered by the duality of business and life, the demands for time often extend beyond the reach of what a day will afford. Yet candid introspection is a diligent reminder that it is us whom frequently choose the content of a calendar. We constantly move forward, repeating the process.
A group of us recently hiked several sections of the long-ago abandoned Yosemite Valley Railroad. Its inception, likely an outcome of the Roosevelt era Progressive movement, reflects the audacity of another time when labor, resources and possibilities were plentiful, limited only by the brevity of ambition and dreams. Walking the old roadbed, my attention rarely drifted from the remnants and evidence that serve as a testament to an intense and arduous concentration of energy and resources. These boys dreamt big, and worked even harder.
Having the privilege to choose one’s work is not an experience most in this world will ever share. For those more fortunate, opportunity pledges a realization of financial gain, warranting the additional workload and challenges inherent with each new endeavor. At this intersect of reality and philosophy, what corner we stand on is often determined by what we perceive as being most beneficial – for us. Before we judge one another, let’s first understand that our instinct for survival often dictates our disposition. Instead of tossing stones into traffic, perhaps we should wave to those on the other side of the street and begin a conversation. We will assuredly learn something, and avoid the burden of unnecessary collateral damage.