There is a certain irony in focusing on the Book of Ecclesiastes in the Bible. With each measure of time there is an equal and opposite statement, as in "a time to gain, and a time to lose." I could not stop thinking about this, as I once again climbed upon my treadmill and slowly measured my steps, after my last fall. I also considered all the weight that I had lost, before I was put on my new medication. Then I thought about the weight I gained during the time that I could not use my treadmill.
I had walked my way up to 40 minutes of continued walking every day. I had lost 40+ pounds, and I felt like I was never going to see those 40 pounds ever again. Well, that was before the cluster headaches, and that was before this new medication. I gained back nearly 20 pounds. So, I guess you could call that my "time to gain."
Today, I did not run a marathon. I did not leap from a helicopter on my boogie-board, nor land like a gazelle on the frozen snow and ski my way down the side of a mountain. But I began a new journey. My latest fall made speed impossible, in fact, I was slower than I was before, and I had to stop at fifteen minutes, but I began. Now is my "time to lose" again.
I will not get hysterical about this. Other people have bigger problems, and fifteen minutes is still a half a mile more than doing nothing. I think that much of our lives are like this "losing" and "gaining." Wherever we are in this simple wisdom of the Bible, it is still our time. Perhaps it is our time, also, to thoughtfully consider what is worth losing; and in gaining, what are we willing to give up to get there.
Much is made, these days, about "winning." Gaining wealth. I am no expert on wealth, but I do believe I know what it means to be rich -- a hand to hold in the sunset of our lives, the love of our children, friends (if we are so blessed), our pets, and a relationship with God. Those are the things that make us truly rich. Everything else is just "stuff."