在人生的各个阶段,我们都会蒙受损失——并且在这一过程中成长。只有在脱离母体.失去庇护所时,我们才会开始独立的生活。我们不断地升学,接着又离开父母,离开儿时的故乡。继而,我们结婚生子,然后又放手让自己的子女出去闯荡。随着父母和配偶的相继离世,我们也逐渐或者很快衰老。最终,正如双手张开与紧握这一寓言所说,我们必须面对自身的死亡,失去原来的自我,失去我们拥有过或者憧憬过的一切。
The art of living is to know when to hold fast and when to let go. For life is a paradox: it enjoins us to cling to its many gifts even while it ordains their eventual relinquishment. The rabbis of old put it this way: “A man comes to this world with his fist clenched, but when he dies, his hand is open.”
Surely we ought to hold fast to life, for it is wondrous, and full of a beauty that breaks through every pore of God’s own earth. We know that this is so, but all too often we recognize this truth only in our backward glance when we remember what was and then suddenly realize that it is no more.
We remember a beauty that faded, a love that waned. But we remember with far greater pain that we did not see that beauty when it flowered, that we failed to respond with love when it was tendered.
Here then is the first pole of life’s paradoxical demands on us: Never too busy for the wonder and the awe of life. Be reverent before each dawning day. Embrace each hour. Seize each golden minute.
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