By Jim Hagarty
I never used to cry.
I think I went a whole decade or two in my earlier life without shedding so much as a tear.
Now, some days, I’m a blubbering idiot.
The other day, I wrote a poem about cattle and I bawled louder than a calf lookin’ for its mama all the way through the writing of it and for an hour after. I’m tearing up right now just remembering it.
The slightest thing can set me off.
But it’s the strangest thing. There doesn’t seem to be much sadness associated with the tearbursts that come over me like a sudden rainfall in spring. Maybe a bit. But it seems like the waterworks are associated more with gratitude than with regret.
I have been an incredibly fortunate man and have lived what seems to me to be five lifetimes in one. I am not sure what my goals were at 20, but I surely never imagined a life as good as the one I have been given. I used the word “given” on purpose. The Universe has been kind to me.
I spent a lot of years, I think, not feeling much. Hunkered down in the chase after all the things that are supposed to matter to a man in mid-life. Success, recognition, financial stability, accumulation of possessions, accumulation of experiences like the kind that travelling the world can bestow. Too busy living life to be absorbed with much reflection.
But now I remember moments. I remember people. I remember favourite pets and favourite trees and favourite places on Earth that have brought me joy.
And sometimes when I do, a tear or twenty escape their normally locked-tight holding cell.
These days, there seems no need to keep the door locked on my feelings.
That is the thing I am most grateful for.
Because mixed in between the tears is laughter, laughter like I have never known before.
Tears and Laughter originate from the same sacred holy ground called Perspective.
Whatever advantages young people have in life, and they have many, Perspective seems to be the prize waiting near the finish line.
Perspective is what causes old folks to declare …
I wouldn’t change a thing.
