When Dorette and I visited New Zealand a while ago, we heard a Maori proverb.
“Walk backwards toward the future.”
I thought of it when this picture of me as a kid (above) surfaced recently from my archive (that is to say, from my boxes of clutter).
It was taken by my father decades ago on the family farm in Wells County, North Dakota. Some of the tones have shifted over the decades, but the image still captures me. I have no recollection of the occasion — perhaps I was duded up for a school or church “program.”
As we used to say about active old guys, I’m still “spry.” But lately, a darker thought has occurred to me: “Is this my last good year?”
But I now truly understand the meaning and wisdom of the Maori saying — it’s useless to dwell on the future.
I’ll learn the ending of my story soon enough.