A WELCOME NOTE:
Greetings, and a very warm welcome to you. Thank you for taking some time to share in my philosophical foibles. It's my hope that within these entries you might find encouragement, challenge, laughter, counsel and companionship for the journey ahead. Carpe Diem!
Check out www.grantcyster.com for more details. Catch me on Twitter at: GACyster
Yesterday, along with others that I know of and numerous more that I don't, I chose to exercise my right not to participate in the South African elections.
This choice attracted fervent criticism from some, and a number of accusations were levelled against me. Now, as much as I don't owe anyone an explanation for the choice that I made, a choice which for all of us is an inherently personal one, I have no desire to fend off countless interrogations in the days or weeks to come. So, herewith follows a brief summary of my feelings on the matter, in response to criticisms directed towards me.
Holy shish kabobs! I haven't posted here in quite a while. Shame on...someone.
I was having a chat with someone today about memorable movie quotes. Sometimes, while catching a flick, I find myself struck in the face by a line that just jumps out at and resonates with me. I thought I'd take a few moments to populate this space with some of my favourites from my movie-going experiences over the years. Here they are in no particular order:
A few days ago, along with hundreds of millions of people around the world, I watched the final day of the London 2012 Paralympic athletics programme. I witnessed individuals with some of the most severe disabilities known, push themselves to the limit of their physical capability.
A typical response to this kind of display is often pity. Sometimes, it's ridicule or insult. As I watched these athletes compete, I couldn't help but think that if any pity was called for, it ought to rest squarely on the shoulders of us 'normal' people spectating, before it could ever rightfully be directed towards any Paralympian.
So, with today being my birthday, it's got me feeling a bit contemplative. You know, the kind of thoughts that deal with dreams and potential, purpose and destiny. I've been sensing a gentle nudge over the last few weeks - a reminder that there's something for me to do, and that it will require some dedication of me to do it. It's a sobering thought that I will never be the person I have the potential to be unless I commit passion and persistence to the endeavours that I believe matter to me.
(Taken from an article I wrote some time back for CrossRhythms.co.uk. The topic has been on my mind again of late, so here you go. I hope you enjoy it.)
I've seen it said that regret for things done can be tempered by time, but regret for things not done is inconsolable. These words have stuck with me since the moment I read them. They have echoed a sentiment that I have long clung to. Better it is to take risks in life in pursuit of a wild adventure, even at the expense of bruising your head, than to wrestle with the bitterness of regret over chances never taken and paths never followed.
Someone very close to me on the verge of death once told me that life is to be lived in such a way that when we arrive at the end of our journey, we have as little unanswered "What if?" questions as possible. It reminds me of a quote I once read. "Regret for things done can be tempered by time. It is regret for things not done that is inconsolable." While I don't believe this statement to be universally true, it does highlight a very relevant fact: There is far more lingering and painful regret attributed to things undone, than to things that should never have been done. This is a generalization of course, and there are undoubtedly many situations where the opposite is true. However, when I do something regrettable...there are lessons to be learned and there is wisdom to be gained if I embrace the humility to welcome them. Alternatively, for the things that I should have done and desired to do and have forever lost the opportunity to pursue...that kind of remorse can linger for a lifetime.
I'd much rather live my life in such a way that my scars and bruises are indications of my growth, as opposed to never having risked or ventured very much at all. A full life is about experiencing as many memorable moments as possible...for good or bad. I'd much rather look back on my days from the balcony of old age with an abundance of crests and troughs to reflect upon. This to me, is abundant life. Not safety. Not predictability. Rather...variety and extremity and all increments in between. Heart-wrenching valleys and breathtaking summits. But God willing, never the grey, apathetic twilight of inaction and neutrality that knows neither defeat nor victory. I refuse to believe and accept that this is the kind of meager existence I entered into this world for...irrelevance. No! I resist the seduction to retire to the grave entirely without incident. I will delight in the fight. I will safeguard my light, and NOT fade quietly into the night.
