Candle in the Wind

In an interesting twist, some things are strong and fragile at the same time.  This idea finds application in people, things and ideologies.  Like Superman, we all have our kryptonite, and we learned by rock, paper and scissors that strengths have opposing weaknesses.

Glass is hard but brittle.  Of course, there are variances, but, in practical use, it is ever so, and other things are both, as well.  Even the diamond has faults which exercised destroy its worth.   
In the same way, people may appear resolute and impervious while possessing hidden flaws and a breakable (or broken) spirit.  The nature of some ideas is that they exist best in their purest forms though those manifestations be subject to loss.  Many of us have learned through experience to bend a little.  The best people and things have inclusions.

A reed is flexible to the point of withstanding gale-force winds, but it is not very strong.  As such, it has temporary value, and it’s hard to build a solid edifice with its kin.  The reed can be used for certain purposes but is never a permanent solution.  In like manner, some people are able to remain on their feet precisely because they are not strongly committed to much of anything.  While open-mindedness is a fine thing, you don’t want to be so open-minded that your brain falls out. 

You can’t make a racehorse out of a mule.  To win one or more of the triad in the Triple Crown, a finely-bred steed is in order.  Know, however, that such are likely to have short shelf-lives and are susceptible to sickness and injury.  While their grace and gait are admirable, they are not strong as equines go nor preferred for a long day’s work.  Insert, instead, the half-bred mule.  Steady and strong, a heavy load will not deter the farmer’s choice through seasons of toil.  The worker will not falter and may pull the tractor from the ditch.  To be fair, however, a mule is sure-footed, but he’s slow.   

While we delight in swift acquisitions, it must be admitted that some things grow and perish in a day.  The visionary should ever be aware of the fickle states of progress.  A friend told me recently that, for all the talk of making a mark on the world, when we die, it is much as if we never existed.  Our places are taken by others, and we are mourned by few for short duration.  We must work and govern our lives well, or they will not achieve worth at all.  Slow growth may not make the news though it may solidify the construct.

We, often, speak of the strength of love and rightly so.  Reflections of this kind put us in line with the musings of Solomon and lesser sages throughout history.  At the same time, love is a delicate thing which must be nurtured in order to grow.  There is beauty in the simplicity of childish love and warmth in the knowledgeable love of the aged.  While we rely on the durable aspects of pledged fidelity, we can never forget that the most faithful heart thrives when tended.

There’s a ditch on either side of the road, and God made us to operate in balance.  Unlike He, we are finite and, individually, reflect only parts of the divine nature.  We learn through living the imperfect nature of our ideals and that choices have consequences.  We believe and doubt simultaneously and need the help of God even to pray.  Our lights shine in darkness though the flames flicker in the storms of life.



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