I have not arrived
Imagine waking up one morning and you realize that you have run out of time, you have missed your moment, you have seen the back of an opportunity and you have never seized the day. The usual response is that we live in regret – we offer explanations shrouded in excuses. Excuses are the veneer which we apply to validate our mediocre response to the demands of life. A life defined by excuses is one which marginalizes the true value of human existence.
From the moment we open our eyes and see the sun eavesdropping on the horizon life sends us an invitation to participate in the discourse of life. Generally, we spend the first few moments musing and deliberating with ourselves about what we will wear. Yet, deciding what to wear without appropriating one’s role in meeting the mandate for any specific day, means faltering in understanding our true purpose. Moreover, we require more than lip-service to respond to the invitation extended to us by Life. We cannot merely look the part, but we also need to understand that the fruit of our labor is the gift which we present to Life at the end of each day.
The excuses we make today will become trophies on our mantelpiece in future, to remind us of what could have been, but also what we decided to settle for. I have seen too many lives living in the shadow of regret and becoming the hubris in the valley of poor decision-making. The challenge is that far too many suffer from a paucity of truth and have pitched their tents in the quagmire of discontent. Thus, it has become far too easy to be grounded in foolish reality.
Yet, everyone who responds favorably to an RSVP understands that action is the vehicle to transport you to the invited location. For we know that we have no control over any given event, yet we can decide to progress closer to destiny. The beauty of the invitation is not so much that I have arrived at the door of opportunity, but that I am ready to venture beyond the threshold of my current reality. In my heart I understand that fear and opportunity make poor conversation partners. Thus, I often need to vacate the semi-detached dwelling in the neighborhood of fear to advance to a more welcoming community. And while I cannot dictate who moves into the vacant property next to mine, I have the choice whether I need to raise the wall on that which wishes to diminish my value.
Of course, nothing ventured is nothing gained, and nothing gained continuously will eventually lead to one having to file for emotional bankruptcy. And when the currency of time runs out on us, we leave nothing to be inherited through our legacy. Yet, the closer me move to destiny, the more we are mindful that we have not arrived. For the properties of the soil on which my feet are now planted cannot compare to the ultimate prize which await me at destiny. But before I can experience the luxury of destiny, I need to prepare my pallet to appreciate the taste of what will ultimately be considered greater.
