Bach’s descending bass line gives life to a masterpiece.
One of the few perks of getting older is gaining a measure of perspective on life by recognizing patterns over time. There is a tide to existence that ebbs and flows—a cyclical order in an otherwise random world. When life’s tide pulls back, when what once felt sure and steady fades—leaving behind scattered debris and jagged rocks—it’s easy to believe that the tide won’t return, that progress is lost to the gravitational pull of a dark mass. Despite my successes, this year felt like an accumulation of challenges and setbacks leading to an uncertain future.
I am comforted by the wonders only visible during these times—hidden terrain we never see when the waters are high, and just as the waves grind rocks into sand, I find myself stopping to appreciate the feeling of resilience that keeps me moving through life’s rhythm. I find comfort in classical music, which speaks something profound about the human experience. Notes fall like drops of rain, managing to soothe despite their descent. As I listen, I realize that these notes don’t fall into despair; they gracefully descend as if to tell their own story of resilience. Their decay is inevitable—each note must give way for the splendor to come.
Life isn’t a quest to a destination but an exploration of the unknown. Sometimes you find treasure, sometimes you find wonder in the mundane, and sometimes you must simply endure the journey with the curiosity of what you’ll discover next. Keep your eyes, mind, and heart open.