The Fragility of Life

The Fly

“Little Fly
Thy summers play,
My thoughtless hand
Has brush’d away.

Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?

For I dance
And drink & sing:
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.

If thought is life
And strength & breath:
And the want
Of thought is death;

Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die”

― William Blake, Songs of Innocence and of Experience ―

Last night, I was reminded of the fragility of life.  Someone is here on this Earth and you know it, and the next minute, they are not.  All those silly things that we cling to just don’t seem as important when it all gets down to the impermanence we have with our time here.  It is in moments like this that I am reminded of this poem I read in school, and it is also when I think about what I want to do with my time.

Do I want to do more, learn more, dream more?  You bet.

Is all the bullshit that has been going down lately about as insignificant as a single grain of sand on a vast and endless beach?  It sure is.

Do I have the power to control what I do in life and how I react to the events that surround me? Of course.


I guess what it all really means is that you should do what drives you, love what excites you, hold on to your life like you have no other (because you don’t), and make every day memorable for you and the others around you…

Never let go of anything you can’t live without.

#lovelife   #neverletitgo   #fragilityoflife  #perspectivechangeseverything


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