Lost

A message pops up on my computer telling me that Cranky Old Man has had a couple of new views. Surprising to me since the Old Man has been off doing other things.

This brings to mind the somewhat circular thought, "Not all who wander are lost."

This is part of a longer quote by J.R.R. Tolkien from The Lord of the Rings that goes: “All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."

One can take issue with this, one can take issue with anything, one often does when one is a Cranky Old Man. Thus, even gold may glitter and yet be bitter, some if not most are lost, the old eventually do wither, and deep roots are furthest away from the water.

J.R.R. Tolkien did get a lot right. In The Lord of the Rings, Frodo is a hobbit of the Shire who inherits the One Ring from his cranky cousin the older Bilbo Baggins and undertakes the quest to destroy it in the fires of Mount Doom.

One is left to wonder where Frodo goes at the end of his wanderings. In the book, he remains in Middle-Earth with his grandsons Elladan and Elrohir before departing some time in the Fourth Age. The shire is restored and it is the time of the ascent of man.

How is that working for us?

"Each day, we wake slightly altered, and the person we were yesterday is dead. So why, one could say, be afraid of death, when death comes all the time?”
John Updike, Self-Consciousness

All who wander are not lost

Where has the Old Man been? Some say he went on vacation, some say he went to Kathmandu and joined a monastery, or got lost and discovered Shangri-La, or he died at the summit of Everest.

But like Mark Twain, the stories told of his demise are an exaggeration. No, the Old Man is not dead nor lost, he is just wandering looking for the Way.

Heraclitus was an old man

To Heraclitus who says,
All things pass and nothing stays
Could I not run ahead?
And stepping in the river,
Find the shoe I lost

Heraclitus of Ephesus was really not so old, 60 years old to be precise when he died. Unless, one considers the average life expectancy in ancient Greece was 25, and that Heraclitus was wise beyond his years, having written on topics diverse as nature, logic, learning, and human affairs.

Then we may conclude that he lived to a ripe old age, having learned that all things pass and nothing stays.

Raphael's School of Athens, Heraclitus sits in the foreground, apart from the others with his elbow on a box

On the road again

St. Augustine was not always an old man.

He was born in the year 354 in Tagaste, the Roman province of Numidia in North Africa. As a youth, he was known for living the good life.

the good life in Montana

After studying in Rome and Milan and after converting to Christianity, he retired to the monastic life in his native village. He was then called to become a priest and moved to the city of Hippo. In time he became bishop, and over the course of 35 years traveled to various councils in Carthage and North Africa. The journey from Hippo to Carthage was a journey of nine days.  One traveled by donkey or on foot,  wearing sandals over dusty roads along a rugged coastline where robbers lay in wait.

North Africa, coast line

In his 75 years on this earth, St. Augustine produced over two hundred books and nearly a thousand sermons, letters, and other works. But he never forgot the importance of travel and meeting other people.

St. Augustine has many quotes, of which I will quote one:

Hope has two beautiful daughters, whose names are anger and courage.  Anger is the way things are, and courage the desire to see that they do not remain as they are.

When asked why he left his studies, he replied, “The world is a great book. None study the book so much as the traveler; they that stay at home read only one page, and never know the joy of the journey.”

The old man is on the road again. This time in Montana, looking for answers, but more importantly looking for hope.

Cordelia Redux

The burden of knowledge my daughter says, is upon the writer and not the reader. Sometimes the burden is described as follows: "As we accumulate more knowledge, more knowledge must be known before new contributors can contribute." Here is it is simply that the reader must know who Cordelia is to appreciate the words.

So I explain...

The youngest and favorite daughter of King Lear is Cordelia, who struggles to find kind words to say about her father. William Shakespeare made a play out of it, which is correctly called a tragedy. Its first known performance was on St. Stephen's Day, December 26th, in 1606.

Cordelia Redux 

My lord and father, 

I am the last to speak, with the least to say 

Sad am I, I cannot heave 

My heart into my mouth, I love your majesty 

I love my father more, according to my bond, 

Not more nor less, I confess

Like any good daughter, I would love and be silent 

Leave me to my duty, I have no need to boast 

That the truth is so untender 

To obey and love and honor 

And nothing can I add

Dear Dad,
Okay, It is sad, but

Every daughter does what she should do

Nothing more nor less need be said

To obey and love and honor is the past

The truth is

I have no time to stay

I need the keys, the car, some cash

I’ve got to dash

Cordelia, a painting by William Frederick Yeames

Back in the saddle again.

I see it has been awhile.

I've been wondering if you wondered where I've been. Well, I've been here and there, mostly there, but now I am back, back in the saddle again.

Back in the saddle

I don't suppose I have much new to add.

Just remember, no matter how much time passes between our meetings, no matter what takes place in meanwhile, there are some things we can never assign to the trashcan, memories are like embers in the fireplace, and there is always a spark to rekindle the flame.

But I will leave you with Gene Autry's lyrics from Back in the Saddle Again. Take from them what you will.

I`m back in the saddle again
Out where a friend is a friend
Where the longhorn cattle feed
On the lowly gypsum weed
Back in the saddle again

Ridin` the range once more
Totin` my old .44
Where you sleep out every night
And the only law is right
Back in the saddle again

Whoopi-ty-aye-oh
Rockin` to and fro
Back in the saddle again
Whoopi-ty-aye-yay
I go my way
Back in the saddle again

I`m back in the saddle again
Out where a friend is a friend
Where the longhorn cattle feed
On the lowly gypsum weed
Back in the saddle again

Ridin` the range once more
Totin` my old .44
Where you sleep out every night
And the only law is right
Back in the saddle again

Whoopi-ty-aye-oh

Rockin` to and fro

Back in the saddle again

Whoopi-ty-aye-yay

I go my way

Back in the saddle again

Waiting

Out there something incredible is waiting to be known, look for it.