Passages

I addressed the ball on the first tee. It was a par 3, 150 yards. I pulled out my 5-iron, thinking, This could be a hole-in-one—straight on, pretty view.

I swung.

I whiffed. I mean, I completely missed the ball.

The rest of the round was pretty pathetic. It was beginning to encourage me to quit. On the last hole, I said to myself, Okay, I'm at least going to end this round with a par.

I topped the ball.

That did it. I picked up my ball and walked to the clubhouse for a Corona.

I decided I was finished with golf.

Like baseball, running, basketball, football, water and snow skiing, and difficult hikes, golf is now in my past. Good memories. Times I am grateful to have experienced. I have enjoyed the delight of doing them.

But I am learning that life is about passages.

Not only the activities we once did, but also the people who have been part of our lives—parents, spouses, siblings, friends. People come into our lives, share a passage with us, and eventually, for one reason or another, that passage ends.

Accepting this as part of the way life works helps me feel more grateful for what I have had and what I have done. Somehow, it also lessens the grief of what is gone.

Even my photography has gone through passages. I moved from large format to medium format, to 35mm, to compact cameras, and now to the iPhone.

And that's okay with me.

Been there. Done that.

What's new and exciting for me now?

Recently, I printed an image I took with my iPhone as a 20-by-20-inch print. The detail wasn't quite acceptable at that size. My first thought was, Well, okay.

Then I realized something.

I am naturally moving toward more abstract, painterly images anyway. So instead of fighting the limitation, I can embrace it. I can use the filters and techniques I have been exploring to create the new effect I am drawn to.

In other words, I can flow with the passage.

Maybe that's what these passages are really asking of us—not to hold on to what was, but to be open to what is becoming.

My brother Richard said, in his elder years, that the biggest task in life is to love. Everything else melts away.

Maybe he was touching on the same idea I am thinking about when I speak of passages.

There are natural losses.

But there are also possible gains: wisdom, gratitude, peace, perspective—and LOVE.

I still have passions. They may simply look different than they did before.

Before is gone.

Today is where life is.

And I am curious about what comes next.

Awakening on Superior