Yesterday while taking a hike in Catalina State Park, I came upon a sign that gave me pause. I read that the Santa Catalina Mountains began their formation somewhere between 1.4 billion and 20 million years ago.

When I try to comprehend the amount of time either of those numbers represent, it boggles my mind. I think many of us consider time in increments of minutes, days, weeks and years. We probably all also consider time in its relationship to our own age. In my case, that’s seventy years.

When I was a boy, and even into my years as a young man, I considered myself bullet proof. Today, I’m not so resilient. I have a few more nagging aches, worries and doubts.

I’m sure like most of us, I once thought (perhaps I thought I knew) that I was the center of the universe. As I looked at mountains that came millions, if not billions of years before me, I have some proof that maybe I wasn’t of the magnitude of importance that I thought I was.

So now what?

What do we do with the time we’ve been given? How do we spend this resource that is called our lifetime? For me I’ve wasted a large portion of it. That statement is not intended to be some off handed criticism, it’s simply the truth.

I’ve not loved enough, I’ve not shared enough, I’ve not learned enough. Lately I have been giving more consideration to what and how I want to be in the future. Maybe that’s a by-product of getting older. I have long said that just before I die, I want to know that I gave back more to life than I took. So that’s my goal. It’s not a New Years resolution or a passing idea, it’s something of a late in life quest.

What about you? What quest, what journey do you have in front of you?

I end this post today with a quote that I’ve often repeated. It’s from Pierre Teilhard De Chardin.  – “We have only to do what any one of us is capable of – become conscious of our living solidarity with one great Thing, and then do the smallest thing in a great way. We must add one stitch, no matter how small it be, to the magnificent tapestry of life…”

Go well, David