Monday, March 18, 2013

Habitual Depth

Winter officially bids us adieu in the Northern Hemisphere this week.  One of the Equinox twins, Vernal, arrives Wednesday.  By this time next week we shall have entered March's final week.  Two weeks from day is April 1st.    Where does the time go?  Where indeed. 

Courtesy of Sandy and Nemo and all of the other cheerfully-named forces of nature that have kicked the balls of those of us who call New Jersey, New York and Connecticut home upwards through the roofs of our collective mouths it seems as if this winter has lasted an extraordinarily long time.  And for those among our number for whom basic necessities remain as elusive as gossamer, perhaps the arrival of the Equinox this week shall carry with it all of the weight and magnitude that one affords to a distinction without a difference.  Perhaps not.  Perhaps as daylight increases in incremental amounts every day and day-time high temperatures render sweaters and jackets obsolete with ever increasing frequency where once there was darkness a bit of light shall force its way in.  It has been said that where there is light there is hope.  Of course, it is a hell of a lot easier to speak in platitudes when you have not been punched in the solar plexus with vicious intent.  It is even easier when you have not been so attacked twice within the past six months. 

Life is a forward-lived exercise.   It has to be.  No reasonable alternative exists to picking up and carrying on.   Of course an alternative exists - giving up and surrendering to your fate is such an alternative but it is not a "reasonable" alternative.  For once you give up, once you abandon all hope you have nothing.  And once you cease believing that you can do something, that you accomplish something, that you matter and that your life is worth the fight you are finished.   A very wise man once observed, "Very often the difference between a rut and a grave is the depth of the habit."   It is as true now as it was when my brother Bill first said it.  I wager it shall always remain so. 

Saturday morning a group of runners and non-runners (eager to offer support and share libations) shall gather in Manasquan.  The purpose of the get-together is the annual Mid-Winter Beach Run.  It is going forward on Saturday morning although (a) it shall take place on Spring's first Saturday as opposed to in the middle of winter; and (b) no portion of the race course shall include the beach, which is still recovering from the havoc Sandy wrought.  It is an event the proceeds of which shall be given to the Manasquan First Aid Squad.  It is a way to give something back to those who come to the assistance of their neighbors in their time of need.  

It is a reminder of the importance of all of us not only finding a place to sit in the canoe but also of us all paddling in the same direction.  You cannot spell the word "COMMUNITY" without the letters U N I T Y.  A lesson worth remembering.  Irrespective of how much darkness may envelop us.  

Perhaps, in fact, a lesson whose importance increases in direct relationship to the darkness.  A lesson that serves as a light to guide us home.... matter how lost we may believe ourselves to be.   



No comments: