"Golden September Days" (Text & Image Copyright Wylddane Productions, LLC)
This morning, as I sip my coffee and watch daylight slowly weave its way into the garden, I find myself reflecting on time. There are more years behind me than there are ahead, and yet the tapestry of memory feels vivid and alive. Yesterday, my old college roommate sent me a photograph from our sophomore—or perhaps junior—year. We were so young. My first thought: my, but we were young. My second: what a journey life has been since then.
In those days, we could not have imagined what life would bring. Perhaps it is a gift that youth does not know the full extent of the road ahead. The surprises—both joys and sorrows—become the very fabric of living. I am reminded of Joan Rivers’ sharp, poignant humor from years ago. She once asked herself with a screech, “Am I HAPPY?” before answering in a quieter, more reflective tone, “I am happy.” Beyond the punchline was a truth born of experience: happiness often comes not in grand declarations, but in the quiet resilience of having been through it all.
Happiness itself can be elusive, sometimes fleeting. Oscar Wilde once quipped, “Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.” That line still makes me laugh. But recently, I came across the words of Professor Shige Oishi, who suggests that a good life may be less about constant happiness and more about psychological richness: a life shaped by novel experiences, perspective-shifting insights, and even discomfort. Happiness, he said, is like a batting average—it rises and falls with each play. Psychological richness, however, is more like a career highlight reel: the stories we gather, the challenges we overcome, the lives we touch, the perspectives that reshape us.
By that measure, I see my own life as a rich one. Not without its storms, but abundant in stories. Travel, friendships, books, laughter, heartbreak, resilience—all threads interwoven into a fabric that is textured, complex, and, yes, beautiful. The moments of joy outweigh the moments of sorrow. And the sorrows themselves deepened the joys, gave them color and weight.
This morning, the pages of the day lie blank before me. I cannot know what words will fill them, what surprises or lessons will unfold. But I can choose the spirit in which I write today’s chapter. My hope is simple: to make it a blessing.
“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” ~Søren Kierkegaard
~Wylddane
In those days, we could not have imagined what life would bring. Perhaps it is a gift that youth does not know the full extent of the road ahead. The surprises—both joys and sorrows—become the very fabric of living. I am reminded of Joan Rivers’ sharp, poignant humor from years ago. She once asked herself with a screech, “Am I HAPPY?” before answering in a quieter, more reflective tone, “I am happy.” Beyond the punchline was a truth born of experience: happiness often comes not in grand declarations, but in the quiet resilience of having been through it all.
Happiness itself can be elusive, sometimes fleeting. Oscar Wilde once quipped, “Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.” That line still makes me laugh. But recently, I came across the words of Professor Shige Oishi, who suggests that a good life may be less about constant happiness and more about psychological richness: a life shaped by novel experiences, perspective-shifting insights, and even discomfort. Happiness, he said, is like a batting average—it rises and falls with each play. Psychological richness, however, is more like a career highlight reel: the stories we gather, the challenges we overcome, the lives we touch, the perspectives that reshape us.
By that measure, I see my own life as a rich one. Not without its storms, but abundant in stories. Travel, friendships, books, laughter, heartbreak, resilience—all threads interwoven into a fabric that is textured, complex, and, yes, beautiful. The moments of joy outweigh the moments of sorrow. And the sorrows themselves deepened the joys, gave them color and weight.
This morning, the pages of the day lie blank before me. I cannot know what words will fill them, what surprises or lessons will unfold. But I can choose the spirit in which I write today’s chapter. My hope is simple: to make it a blessing.
“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” ~Søren Kierkegaard
~Wylddane
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