The few elevated minds...who only disbelieve because they do not know,
we would remind of that apothegm of Narada, the ancient Hindu philosopher:

"Never utter these words: 'I do not know this—therefore it is false.'

"One must study to know, know to understand, understand to judge."


—Isis Unveiled, I, 628

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Old friends and new adventures

I took some time the last few days to see if I could locate a friend from a long time ago. I was driving past a place where I remembered he had worked and decided to see if he was still there. The person I talked with on the phone had never heard his name. I wondered where he was and how he had fared. I used the old fashioned method and searched the phone book with no luck, then an internet search and some luck when I stumbled across someone with a similar last name and got a reply that he was my friends son. My friend and I as young men had adventures with our group of avid backpackers some more hair raising than enjoyable. It was good to say hello. I hope we can stay in touch. It brought back many memories of the things we went through, the trouble we got ourselves into, the adventures our "band of friends" had before we drifted to other parts of our lives.

This time of year seems to bring on something that makes me drift into nostalgia. Perhaps it is the remembrance of the annual ritual, returning to school, or the season change and how the darkness and colder morning keep me inside with a hot cup in the kitchen instead of out on the patio. Something, perhaps a memory from long ago, gets sparked this time of year and I reflect on the times and experiences I've been through. I wonder if this is far more then something I alone experience?

Traditionally this is the time of year after the gathering of the fruits of the summer, while the final preparations are made to insure a more comfortable winter, that by the hearth in the longer evening darkness the years adventures were told and the stories from ages past were retold. This is where acts of bravery,conquests, miracles, and disaster became legend, where myths were born. It may be that this feeling of nostalgia is something more in us than a personal remembrance. I wonder if after eons of following the annual ebbs and flows of our world we have in us an instinctual gravitation to remembrance and reflection at this time of year?

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