We are lucky in this emancipated Western World in that the lives of most people are governed by personal choices. I suppose the only two experiences which we all share are those of being born and dying. Other than that, to a large extent, our lives are governed by the choices we make. I am often struck by this thought when considering my choice to move to this area from a Midlands city. If I had not done so then the farmer's and my paths would never have crossed.
Where would I be now, and what would I be doing?
In my "Favourite Words" book (see one of my blogs last week for details) there is a poem which says it all so much better than I can.
Cagob, it said, 2
miles. But I never went
there; left it like an ornament
on the mind's shelf, covered
with the dust of
its summers; a place on a diet
of echoes of stopped
bells and childrens'
voices; white the architecture
of its clouds, stationary
its sunlight. It was best
so. I need a museum
for storing the dream's
brittler particles in. Time
is a main road, eternity
the turning that we don't take.
The poem, by RS Thomas, is published in Frequencies (Macmillan) - a slim volume but full of
words of wisdom. How has your life been influenced by the choices you have made? It is worth a few moments contemplation.