Oblation

It happens in seconds. Click here and click there. Passage of times and its gone. Where did that lifetime go?  A moment you are in diapers, in a moment you are putting them on. In a moment you are wearing them again. It’s the way. It’s supposed to be that way. Best and the brightest learn that it never has to be the best and the brightest. We search, we struggle, we hope. We always hope for more meaning, for more purpose, for more. Do we ever find it? Sure, we do.  Do we ever need to find it? Sure we do.

Our times are borrowed in shells that are fastly becoming obsolete. We take steps to take care of the vehicle we drive. We glorify the youth and it’s never ending possibility. But at what price? We forget that this all borrowed time and we should happily pay for this journey. We pass on the lessons past. Fix the mistakes of those gone ahead and pray for forgiveness to those that follow.

We can never be complete. Should we always strive? Of course, yes. It is the belief that pushes further than we can ever believe. As one said, “. . .What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time, be but to sleep and feed? A beast no more. Sure be that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after gave us not that capability and godlike reason to fast in us unus’d” If you know who wrote this, bonus points.”

The life before us is unmade. The time before us is finished. The life. . .

We stand in places walked on before. Scanning old family pictures, I am struck at the same places visited by relatives before.  We visit places long ago. We see ones now old so young. A happiness of a smile of future beaming so brightly. I see a pose and smile of a time filled with such energy. I am reminded that there still much more. We be mindful of the duty, the task on hand.

A wonderful lady named Minnie introduced me to a picture of a statue.  It is one where the head is leaned back, chest out. Arms spread out, like an eagle taking to sky. She said, it reminds her of an obligation and duty that she willingly accepts.  My cousin Robert recently had a new one join the ranks. Had the covenant for the child. A Circumcision. Not sure if too many people know the meaning behind the ritual of circumcision. It was a physical act in which one makes an agreement with God to show his faith. There is more to the meaning, but ask a priest or a rabbi.

The statue is the Oblation.

Saw a statue similar to this one at MOT. Only thing it was upside down with Star of David in the background. It is housed on the bottom floor of the Museum. It is a powerful image. Not sure of the meaning behind it, but these images touches in a way I never really understood, but always knew. Its visceral. It has a symbolism that I am not equipped at this time to put to words.

Never been an artist, but my Aunt Mary says we have many of them in our family. I used to like to draw. I used to like to read comics. I still do on the latter. I see it in my nephew. He doesn’t draw. He play fights Star Wars all the time. He likes the light sabre, he has two. There is something about the story that rings some thing basic. Some thing primal. He, I think, likes the imagery, the story between good and evil. He likes the sound effects and the music. Many of us do.

She said that Many are called, but few are Chosen.

Its Oscar season and there are many movies with shots at the highest honor for Hollywood. Watching Black Swan now. Finished Kings Speech a few days back. Saw the Fighter, too. Got Facebook on DVD. Recently, LA Times published a section comparing this year’s crop with past Best Picture winners.  Social Network, Beautiful Mind. Inception, Sting. Toy Story 3, Oliver. Fighter, Rocky. True Grit, Unforgiven. Black Swan, Amadeus/All About Eve. 127 Hours, Everest. The Kids are All Right, Terms of Endearment. Winter’s Bone, No Country For Old Men. King’s Speech, Chariots of Fire.

There’s something about Magical about the retelling of these stories. Stories of Ascension/ Descension. Stories of Discovery. Stories of Transformation. There are stories of quest. Stories of Excess. Stories that tells of follies and foibles of person kind. These are stories that elevate the spirit where we belong. It is a recognition that we are so much more and that we have so much left.

The beauty about movies, about stories, about art. It is this. It speaks to you. It connects us with what has gone before us. It speaks to those we never met. It carries a message, good and bad, that we will go on.  So enjoy your stories, they are important.  It fuels the fire of possibility, it bounds with a never ending fuel of youthful energy. It looks a t obstacles with delight, because it unlocks creation and brings us  truth and beauty. One great person said, “Imagination is more important than knowledge.”