Make myself a bed by the waterside … listen to the river sing sweet to rock my soul…
Can anyone truly appreciate the rich glory of a plain life? Even the grateful among us, the enlightened, the aware, the receivers of a second chance, can anyone who has not lost or nearly lost the life they knew, know what they have?
My philosophy is that, if a notion occurs to me, then it must have occurred to someone else before, so I doubt this is new ground, but the question stands.
It is Autumn here in Germany, a place I’ve been for nearly three weeks, receiving treatment at Landstuhl regional medical center on a medevac from Afghanistan. On the casevac flight here there were walking wounded, the slightly rattled, and several guys who were wrapped up in gauze, ivs hanging, attendants monitoring. Looking at them definitely instilled gratitude. But the trickiest thing, is that most wounds aren’t visible, the most lasting wounds that cause the most enduring damage, aren’t visible.