A truly wise person will not be carried away by any of the eight winds: prosperity, decline, disgrace, honor, praise, censure, suffering, pleasure.
Nichiren
It is too soon to tell whether my next adventure will be a failure or a success. Undoubtedly, both judgments will take turns tramping across my consciousness, whether in the midst of a sleepless night or in the dazzling rays of the setting sun. There will be moments when I’m cast deep into despair, overwhelmed and exhausted. Then there will be times I will want to pinch myself, incredulous at how much pleasure and beauty have manifested in my life.
Spring in central Virginia offers one of the best exercises in perceiving how quickly potential shifts. Grey rainy days caution that winter’s retreat isn’t complete. The next day, blue skies and mild temperatures tempt us, caution thrown to the warm wind as we step outside in short sleeves and bare feet. One afternoon I walk by a shrub tight with buds; the next, its extravagant blossoms spill forth in colorful riot.
Every beginning starts with an ending, as inextricably mixed as sorrow and joy. Whether we acknowledge it or not, our good news comes at the expense of another’s loss. It is the economy, the ecology, of life.
I have little to add in comprehending this cycle of eternal resurgence, especially when so many talented others have offered their insights, works of art that comfort us at our lowest points and send our moments of celebrations into a higher pitch. As I stand at this threshold, I want simply to capture my feelings and to say a prayer I hope I’ll remember in the months ahead.