
The Mill Stream
Commentary by: Bill the Butcher
We all have dreams. Everyone does. We imagine life as a boat floating down a peaceful mill stream. And we can hear the rapids up ahead but think it will be fun. It is at first. Until it isn’t.
And they will go back in one way or another. We make our plans and God says, “No!” We all have an expiration date. Everyone who got out of bed this morning had something to do, somewhere to go, someone to be. Some make supper. Some don’t. Some are on point. Some are on the menu. We are not all winners. That’s why many are called but few are chosen. That’s why there are more sheep than wolves.
If we are wise we accept. If we are not, we kick hard against the goads, but God only knows. God makes His plans. And, as the Prophet Paul Simon says, “The information’s unavailable to the mortal man.” We are drifting down the mill stream thinking we have it all figured out.
When life is over there will be nothing left. If there are Pearly Gates only saints make the muster. The rest of us are destined for the purging. Yet the dream persists. When it becomes obvious that the waters will not abate we delude ourselves into thinking we will pass our dreams on. Such folly! Those downstream have dreams of their own. Just as deluded as ours.
Everything dies. People, ecosystems, and dreams. As terrible as your life is, in one hundred years it won’t matter. If your great, great grandchildren even know what you looked like they won’t care. They will be shooting their own rapids, hoping for smooth waters that will never come.
Even if you have a perfect life, life will snatch it away, and in the end you’ll die disappointed no matter how many friends and family are gathered around your bed. Regrets about things you did or didn’t do. In the end you’ll be just as dead as that flat squirrel in the road. And the dead know nothing!
The prettiest face will wrinkle. The sharpest mind will dull. And in the end the winds of time will erase all your footsteps. All that you’ve said and done. And all you forgot to say, left for someone else who have their own script.
All your dreams die with you no matter how eloquent you thought they were. Lost in the swirling waters of that mill stream. In the end they, and you will crumble to dust, blown away in the sands of time. And the boat you rode in will wait on the shore for the next rider to take it a little farther down the stream.
So, what’s it all for? You! To thine own self be true because everyone else is a liar. But if you lie to yourself then you are truly alone. If you construct scenarios or constructs in your mind they will fail. Try to get through life without hurting anyone. If everyone did just that it would alleviate a lot of pain. Not the rapids, just the pain. The object is not to win. The object is just to make it to the bell. Or shore. And leave the boat. Happy canoeing.
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The Liberty Beacon Project is now expanding at a near exponential rate, and for this we are grateful and excited! But we must also be practical. For 7 years we have not asked for any donations, and have built this project with our own funds as we grew. We are now experiencing ever increasing growing pains due to the large number of websites and projects we represent. So we have just installed donation buttons on our websites and ask that you consider this when you visit them. Nothing is too small. We thank you for all your support and your considerations … (TLB)
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As an old man with no offspring, intentional or otherwise, I found this article validating and bizarrely uplifting since it mirrors my own slipping-clutch mental state. For 79 years I’ve pushed mightily in all directions striving for…what??? Validation? Immortality? Something to do to keep busy, serving the same purpose as blinders on a Clydesdale? I can’t remember the name of the artist or country song that contains this sentence but I can’t forget the sentence itself: “I don’t know whether to kill myself or go bowling.” At least bowling offers a seemingly random choice of gutters. Yeeehah!!!