So you should view this fleeting world --
A star at dawn, a bubble in a stream,
A flash of lightning in a summer cloud,
A flickering lamp, a phantom, and a dream.
The above quote comes from the oldest printed book in existence, The Diamond Sutra, produced by Wang Jie (a Chinese printmaker) in 868 A.D. via block printing. It suits my mood these days as I sadly face the reality of summer's demise.
Centuries ago, Wang Jie, of a culture different from mine, also had these thoughts and is remembered for them. Like him, I've come to the realization that life is fleeting and transient. I don't like the thought of everything dying, even though autumn is a beautiful season and I know with certainty that spring and summer will come again.
Centuries ago, Wang Jie, of a culture different from mine, also had these thoughts and is remembered for them. Like him, I've come to the realization that life is fleeting and transient. I don't like the thought of everything dying, even though autumn is a beautiful season and I know with certainty that spring and summer will come again.
This time of year brings me face to face with my own reality. I do hope to welcome spring and summer again, as I am in good health, but I am experiencing the autumn season of my life and must become familiar with the fact that some day, in the not-too-distant future, this life on earth will end for me. How do I prepare myself for that moment?
This morning's devotions by Henri Nouwen brought me up short:
I have a deep sense, hard to articulate, that if we could really
befriend death we would be free people. So many of our doubts
and hesitations, ambivalences and insecurities are bound up with
our deep-seated fear of death that our lives would be
significantly different if we could relate to death as a familiar
guest instead of a threatening stranger.
befriend death we would be free people. So many of our doubts
and hesitations, ambivalences and insecurities are bound up with
our deep-seated fear of death that our lives would be
significantly different if we could relate to death as a familiar
guest instead of a threatening stranger.
In a way I think I have been practising this. Every morning and evening when I walk the path around the lake close to our house I pass a bench. It's different from the other benches placed there because it has a plaque with a name on it. A loving husband dedicated it to his wife, who enjoyed this lake walk like I do. I sit on this bench often to enjoy the view and wonder what her life was like. Her husband wants her to be remembered, and I try to honor that even though I didn't know her.
Earlier in spring, Hardy and I noticed a fairly large black butterfly hovering over the parsley and dill growing in one of the pots of our deck garden. I also saw black specks on the parsley when I went to pick it for a summer salad. Over time, these little specks turned into large green, black and yellow caterpillars.
I thought they might be monarchs because the coloring was like that of the monarch caterpillar, but our son-in-law Chris told me they were black swallowtails. Oh yes, that explains the black butterfly!
I've seen lots of monarchs enjoying the nectar of our flowers, but no swallowtail yet.
As I observed these various stages of a butterfly's life cycle, it struck me how brief and how fragile it is but also how beautiful and productive.
I thought they might be monarchs because the coloring was like that of the monarch caterpillar, but our son-in-law Chris told me they were black swallowtails. Oh yes, that explains the black butterfly!
I've seen lots of monarchs enjoying the nectar of our flowers, but no swallowtail yet.
As I observed these various stages of a butterfly's life cycle, it struck me how brief and how fragile it is but also how beautiful and productive.
Three years ago Granddaughter Sasha and I illustrated the life stages of a butterfly. She was only eight at the time and now she is 11, just at the cusp of her lovely life while mine is drawing to a close. I hope that my life is giving meaning and purpose to hers in some small way.
Grandson Ivan found an injured butterfly at the edge of their swimming pool. It later revived and we watched it proceed on its joyful journey!
We have both been drawn to autumn themes today, Elfrieda. And I agree completely with Henri Nouwen about death. I hope I am as free as he describes, but one never knows until the end, I guess.
ReplyDeleteThe dedicated bench is something I would like to give or have given in my name. I am thinking it would fit on the path within the linear park that used to be our farm. I love the idea of the dead offering rest and comfort to the living and both enjoying the things the other loved.
Happy fall!
Thank you, Shirley. I find a bench so much more appealing than a cemetery stone. My brother's family put one up for him beside the tree we planted to remember him.
DeleteI too have been thinking about autumn, literally and metaphorically, and your words resonate with me. Thank you. There are quite a few memorial benches in our neighbourhood and you've inspired me to be more mindful of who they honour when I sit on them.
ReplyDeleteA friend suggested a pause button would be a good thing for us to have at this season in our lives! It put a smile on my face!
DeleteThank you for sharing these reflections, Elfrieda. They are a good reminder for me today to appreciate the beauty that crosses my path, and also to hold loosely to the troubles of the moment, which are also fleeting.
ReplyDeleteHolding loosely the troubles of the moment...I like that! Thanks for the reminder, Kathy.
DeleteI love my life here on earth, and I hope it doesn't end any time soon. However, if the deaths of three close relatives has taught me anything, it is that my life is a vapour, "that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away." James 4:14.
ReplyDeleteSuch knowledge impels me to honor my Lord in the time I have left. Soli Deo Gloria!
The photos show that your grandchildren savor nature as you do, retaining a sense of wonder, enjoying God's gifts. Happy autumn!
Thank you, Marian for taking time to read and reply in your busy schedule of promoting your memoir! Really appreciated your last blog posting (guest blog) where you gave some good suggestions of books useful for memoir writing.
DeleteElfrieda, thank you for this. I’ve seen so many butterflies in the last few weeks and whenever I see one I say a quiet little thank you to mom, dad and John for being such a loving force in my life. On some level I hope they hear me and I hope it makes them smile. I think I’ll go visit John’s bench one of these days.
ReplyDeleteThat bench is in such a beautiful location. I’d like to go there too sometime before the weather gets cold.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this beautiful reflection, Elfrieda - even the summer time of life is fleeting as your opening quote reminds us. Whatever the season, each day is precious, and I appreciate the reminder.
ReplyDeleteThank you, April. Yes, the fleeting seasons and the precious days...
DeleteThanks Elfrieda. A good reminder about death, but a different take. Much appreciated.
ReplyDeleteThanks Gilbert and Susan. We knew each other in our youth and met again in the autumn of our lives, and the time in between, that precious time, is no more! But we can look back now and see how it all came about, and that has a beauty of its own, don’t you think?
ReplyDeleteAutumn is the season in which we have much beauty to behold even as we must, in time, allow that beauty to transform into something else with its own kind of beauty. Thanks for these words Elfrieda. Much appreciated.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading, Bryce. I miss your sermons!
DeleteElfieda. Myself and my peers are at the same stage of life, where I have already lived past the age my father lived to. In our adult Sundays school class we are working through a series of sessions by NT Wright (Surprised by Hope). His challenge is to maintain a sense of hope not only for the final step past death, but also for the experience of heaven we engage in right now. I sense, even in our church community, a lose of hope in our world. Change has happened too rapidly and many feel left behind and lost. Next week I will be leading a class on how to maintain hope right to the end of life. So many of those we know have lost all earthly hope and hope only for death. Perhaps that is normal and beautiful in its own way. I personally hope to be cheerful and hopeful right to the end. I best start today.
ReplyDeleteYes, I have been saying that to myself as well. I want to maintain that sense of hope and joy, and not give in to despair and sadness!
Delete