MUTE AND INGLORIOUS

When I was editing newspapers, I needed to write an editorial about the freedom of the press and the freedom of speech. I had a generous amount of space in which to write and print my column, but suddenly I couldn't think of anything to say or write.

I just sat at the keyboard, mute and inglorious while the world went passing by.

As the days go by, I see an open road before me, and looking back, I see the marvelous terrain I have traversed. Life is a challenging quest, and I still remember unexpected turns that sometimes were terrifying, but I held my ground. Mostly I have traveled parallel paths with friends and companions, but I have navigated alone over great sweeps of unfamiliar territory.

in many ways I have almost been around the world. I hope that will literally come to pass. I have a sense that everything has been leading me to this next leg of the journey.

When I was 19, I apprehended that each of us has a personal odyssey, a quest to return to the source of Being...Home... 

In a green blank page book which was my constant companion, I wrote this sonnet:

Before me stands my soul. Behind me limps
The shadow of myself, which claims my mind
And lives in fear that I'll pursue the glimpse
Of permanence once seen when I was blind
To all but thought. Eternity demands
The infinite eye of mind to see much more
Than moments. I shall touch my soul with hands
Of art, and leave my shadow to explore
The vain imagination of its own
Identity in darkness. I must go
Upon a road where I must go alone...
Pursuing the path only my soul can know.
Shadows mocking me on silent feet
Become the only obstacles I meet.

Now, more than 60 years have passed, and still the journey calls me, perpetual sirens on the shore beguiling me, perhaps distracting me. "What took you so long?" they seem to say. I must admit that maybe I was sidetracked. Maybe there was meant to be a different destiny.

In the film THE NATURAL, Robert Redford plays a baseball player so phenomenal that he was immediately given a big contract. He could pitch--- he could hit like no other player on the scene. En route by train to join a team in the majors, he meets up with some strangers who conspire to trick and betray him because they have bet big money for the team he's joining to lose the pennant. He's 19 and feels he can do anything. He is traveling on the train with what is regarded as the best hitter in baseball. A reporter who has a stake in the young man failing makes a bet that he (Redford) can't throw the ball by the famous hitter. Redford claims he can strike him out. They stop the train.  In a dramatic scene, Redford strikes out the famed hitter. All bedlam breaks out and a woman traveling with the newspaper man invites the young athlete to her room. When he enters her room there is confusion in the darkened room and the young man (Redford) is shot.  The scene dissolves to 20 years later. Now the young athlete is in his 40s. It is obvious he never made it to the big leagues. Now he plays minor league ball on a losing team, but a scout sees him hit and gives him a break.  After much ridicule and rejection, Redford surprises everyone by becoming one of the best hitters and pitchers on the scene. The story underscores that although sidetracked on his journey to fulfill his destiny, he finally makes it happen... it was his destiny.

Somehow I feel at this juncture that maybe I have returned to resume a journey for which I lost directions some 60 years ago.

But this isn't Hollywood.

I know what is required. I am still uncovering the trail that has gone cold.

I see endless possibilities waiting. I know that there is something that needs to be created, and that life has been preparing me for whatever is destined to unfold. Sometimes we are too free... with more possibilities than we could ever imagine... and even though I followed the long route to arrive at this place, this is not a time for me to be mute and inglorious in the face of such infinite possibilities.