As I travel further into my later years, and I look back across my life, I ask myself more often: how does one determine a life well lived? If questioned about your life and what you have done, what criteria would you use? How much you accomplished? How many people you helped? The amount of money you made? The ‘mountains’ and obstacles you had to climb? Or how many times you laughed? Or how much fun you have had?
Certainly this question begins to shift a little as it relates to those people who don’t readily fall into a ‘normal life’ category; those who die young, those who are chronically ill and in persistent pain. I wonder, what criteria they would use to measure the outcome of their day; or in their eyes: how would they define a life well lived?
So how does one measure the outcome of a life?
That is what this poem begins to examine; and as the stages of our life shift so may our answers.
So if you are in the mood, ask yourself: how do you measure the outcome of your life?
Reaching the First Stair
When you look around and consider those who have fallen or who are lost: have you ever wondered, what is the measure of their life? Yes- what is the worth of a lifetime that has been spent in darkness, straining, to reach the first stair?
I tell you- we are not equipped to judge. The answer resides in boundless love. The Love of a Father/Mother who cherishes each the same; whether they are whole or lame. A Father/Mother who smiles equally at the slightest effort or the greatest gain.
-SB
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