Introspective thoughts
I recieved this from an instructor of mine, but it seems to fit so well into my life, that I had to share it here. Yes, it is introspective, but it is also about being introspective and what that can bring us, and it caused even more introspection for me (which we all know I'm lacking in ).
> Some of you may not be aware of Don Murray's death from heart failure last
> Saturday. As a fitting tribute, today the Boston Globe published his
> final column:
>
>
>
>
>
> Friends' caring and sharing shows the way
>
>
> By Donald M. Murray, Globe Correspondent | January 2, 2007
>
> Editor's Note: Donald M. Murray, who had written this column for two
> decades, died Saturday at age 82.He filed this piece on Friday. It is his
> final column.
>
> For those of us who are introspective, life is a continuous exploration
> into the self, where we hope to find the person we are and the person we
> may become.
>
> Of course, the apple does not fall far from the tree, and we discover we
> have become a mixed breed of our parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts.
> I found this discouraging. I had thought I had made my escape.
>
> Now I accept my genes but imagine I have a tuning dial so that I can
> adjust their instincts and standards to the life, far different than
> theirs, I have constructed.
>
> This new life has been created by friends who have seen me as I have not
> yet been able to see myself. With Yankee respect they have mostly kept
> their distance, but when they have spoken, or touched a shoulder, or given
> a smile of encouragement, it has been important to me.
>
> When we lost our daughter Lee at 20, it was the subtle but sturdy support
> of friends that got us through those first years. They saw us as strong
> when we felt weak. They said we had done more than enough, when we felt we
> had done far too little. They gave us a future when we thought there was
> none.
>
> And then came the years of Minnie Mae's Parkinson's. We attended to the
> hour-by-hour physical demands of living, and then the dementia arrived,
> and again it was friends who supported and guided me. I often felt like a
> huge ship being nudged into port by friendly tugs.
>
> These friends and neighbors, too many to name, were there when I began a
> new life alone.
>
> First they eliminated much of the alone with their invitations and visits.
> They approved future relationships before I had imagined them. They
> suggested small steps of ind e pendence and supported me when I took them.
>
> And what I have learned?
>
> To pass the friendship on. To speak out, to touch, to be there when others
> need me.
> Some of you may not be aware of Don Murray's death from heart failure last
> Saturday. As a fitting tribute, today the Boston Globe published his
> final column:
>
>
>
>
>
> Friends' caring and sharing shows the way
>
>
> By Donald M. Murray, Globe Correspondent | January 2, 2007
>
> Editor's Note: Donald M. Murray, who had written this column for two
> decades, died Saturday at age 82.He filed this piece on Friday. It is his
> final column.
>
> For those of us who are introspective, life is a continuous exploration
> into the self, where we hope to find the person we are and the person we
> may become.
>
> Of course, the apple does not fall far from the tree, and we discover we
> have become a mixed breed of our parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts.
> I found this discouraging. I had thought I had made my escape.
>
> Now I accept my genes but imagine I have a tuning dial so that I can
> adjust their instincts and standards to the life, far different than
> theirs, I have constructed.
>
> This new life has been created by friends who have seen me as I have not
> yet been able to see myself. With Yankee respect they have mostly kept
> their distance, but when they have spoken, or touched a shoulder, or given
> a smile of encouragement, it has been important to me.
>
> When we lost our daughter Lee at 20, it was the subtle but sturdy support
> of friends that got us through those first years. They saw us as strong
> when we felt weak. They said we had done more than enough, when we felt we
> had done far too little. They gave us a future when we thought there was
> none.
>
> And then came the years of Minnie Mae's Parkinson's. We attended to the
> hour-by-hour physical demands of living, and then the dementia arrived,
> and again it was friends who supported and guided me. I often felt like a
> huge ship being nudged into port by friendly tugs.
>
> These friends and neighbors, too many to name, were there when I began a
> new life alone.
>
> First they eliminated much of the alone with their invitations and visits.
> They approved future relationships before I had imagined them. They
> suggested small steps of ind e pendence and supported me when I took them.
>
> And what I have learned?
>
> To pass the friendship on. To speak out, to touch, to be there when others
> need me.