Stephen M. Hannemann

Sunrise – Sunset

Author: Stephen

”Jason paused to turn his face into the warm August evening, looking to the west he saw a sky preparing to grace Elliott Bay with another postcard picture sunset. Wispy clouds had begun to gather, looking as if the hand of God had stretched cotton candy over the Olympics, a hint of color beginning to fill the palette. In another hour and a half the sky would be filled with color so varied and rich, artists of Fredrick Church’s abilities would struggle to replicate its splendor on canvas. Lingering with the door in his hand and taking in the view, he pondered and envied the genius of artists who have the tenacity to attempt such scenes.”

The preceding paragraph is an excerpt from my latest novel in process, and it reminded me once again of the many gifts we take for granted — or miss, as we move through our daily lives. If you have been following my essays, you know I like to focus on the plethora of gifts that go unappreciated or unrecognized while we travel along at warp speed in our attempts make our mark in life — or at least until we arrive at an age when we slow down enough to notice them. My quest is to help people begin to recognize some of what we miss at a younger age.

One of the gifts most often overlooked is the gift of wisdom. And why is it that more than any country in the world, we are comfortable with parking a great deal of our wisdom in rest homes? I remember several years ago being invited to my friend’s father’s 80th birthday celebration. At the party I had the privilege of meeting the birthday boy’s 103 year old sister. This delightful woman captivated me with her sparkling eyes and warm spirit. As a child, she had ridden in a horse drawn carriage, and as she grew, witnessed the inventions of the automobile, airplane, radio, television, and watched a man land on the moon. But her perspective of life and relationships impressed me the most. Listening to her, I felt as if I was seated at the feet of Plato or Socrates. What wisdom this beautiful, frail woman possessed! My encounter with her stimulated me to write this quote in a novel I was writing at the time, Death of a Warrior.

“Knowledge must be tempered with experience for wisdom to be born.”

By now you’re probably asking yourself what does this have to do with sunrises and sunsets? I believe God gives us each day as a reminder of the seasons — each day being a mini season of our life. The sunrise is the spring of our day, a fresh new beginning — the promiss of the new day and the gifts contain therein. Summer is the meat of the day, the part of the day when we get things done, and learn, and capitalize on new opportunities — the growing season. The sunset is the fall of the day, a time for reflection of what was good, opportunities taken, and opportunities missed — a time to muse about what we learned and what more we want to learn. Winter is when we sleep and rejuvinate our spirits and our bodies — and dream.

I live 30 miles north of Seattle. Not every day begins with a splendid sunrise and ends with a glorious sunset. But it is about what we make of what we’re given, our days. Our cloudy days are our opportunities, and if those circumstances seem too tough, it may be time to seek out the wisdom of the mature who live amog us. Trials and adverse situations temper us and make us stronger — and there lies the wisdom — knowing what to pick up, and what leave behind. Then in the sunset of our day we can reflect on why we are a better now than when we woke, and enter into the winter rest, and truly rest — satisfied.

Live well.

Stephen

© Stephen M. Hanneman – all rights reserved

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 1st, 2009 at 5:50 pm and is filed under Motivation. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.