The Station Will Come Soon Enough!
Today, April 17, marks my mother’s birthday. If alive, she would be turning 86 and most likely we’d be celebrating over lunch outside, walking on her favorite path, and enjoying dinner with our family.
Be-ing vs. Do-ing
Instead, I’ll choose to honor her today by simply expressing gratitude for the life lessons she shared regarding parenting, mothering, and simply “be-ing”. I never understood what she was trying to impart about “be-ing” when I was younger, but with age, I’ve come to know that “be-ing” can be much more satisfying in life that “do-ing”. It’s a lesson I still practice today.
In my work with grievers, I talk about self-reflection and purpose. Often, after a loved one’s passing, those of us left on Earth seek to honor those we’ve lost in a distinct way. It can be as simple as collecting items that remind you of your loved one and placing them in a special place in your home, or looking at photos that remind you of the love you shared. From an energetic perspective, the closeness we feel also helps bring them near in Spirit.
Random Inspiration
Today, I was drawn to pull one of her books off the shelf for my morning inspiration. My mother was a long time fan of Leo Buscaglia, and inside one of his books was a special article she’d clipped from the paper in 1986. I carefully unfolded the article since it was one I hadn’t seen before.
It was a short essay from Robert J. Hasting, entitled The Station.
Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.
But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day, at a certain hour we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true, and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering – waiting, waiting, waiting for the station. “When we reach the station, that will be it!” we cry. “When I’m 18.” “When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes Benz!” “When I put the last kid through college.” “When I have paid off the mortgage!” “When I get a promotion.” “When I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after!”
Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us. “Relish the moment” is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24: “This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.” It isn’t the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.
So, stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.
Relishing the gift of the essay, I carefully refolded the article and tucked it back into my mother’s book. Today, in honor of her birthday, I’ll plan to relish the moment, and perhaps even have a little ice cream along the way. I hope you will also enjoy YOUR ride and remember that the station will come soon enough!