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Taking Turns

Reading this Emily Dickinson poem made me think about meaningless days, weeks and years that just went by in pursuit of things that felt important in that time but looking back not nearly as much. When finally there is a moment to pause past the mid-life mark, it does feel like "a Funeral, in my Brain"

And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space - began to toll,

And as you grow older and (hopefully) wiser, it becomes your turn to look at the young making mistakes and mis-steps you once made, pursuing shiny objects like you once did, preparing for disappointment without being ready for it. And yet there are no words to convey those lessons, no detour to get them to the better happy place. You just watch as their stories unfold knowing they too will get to the point where they will feel the funeral in their brain.




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