The Station
Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We are
traveling by train - out the windows, we drink in the passing
scenes of children waving at a crossing, cattle grazing on a
distant hillside, row upon row of corn and wheat, flatlands and valleys,
mountains and rolling hillsides and city skylines.
But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain
day, we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags
waving. Once we get there, our dreams will come true and the pieces of
our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. Restlessly
we pace the aisles, damning the minutes - waiting, waiting, waiting
for the station.
"When we reach the station, that will be it!" we cry. "When I'm 18."
"When I buy a new 450sl Mercedes Benz!" "When I put the last kid
through college." "When I have paid off the mortgage!" "When I get a
promotion." "When I reach retirement, I shall live happily ever after!"
Sooner or later, we realize there is no station, no one place to
arrive. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream.
It constantly outdistances us. "Relish the moment" is a good motto,
especially when coupled with Psalm 118.34: "This is the day which the
Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." It isn't the
burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday
and the fear of tomorrow.
Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today. So stop pacing the
aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more
ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets,
laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along.
The station will come soon enough.
By Robert J. Hastings
from Condensed Chicken Soup for the Soul
Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark
Victor Hansen & Patty Hansen
