(a response piece to Robert Frost’s “Nothing Gold Can Stay”)
My day was starting whenever the famous line fluttered around my head: “dawn goes down to day / nothing gold can stay.”
And in the flash of an instant, I realized this valuable lesson:
day will always give to dusk, and dusk will always give to dawn.
Time will edge on, forever and continuously looping itself in circles. So the gold moments of my life will always give way to darker moments–but the gold will return with the dawn once again.
I remember staring down the end of my apartment complex’s driveway while on my way to work whenever this hit me, remember seeing the sunlight filter down upon me and remember being excited for the start of the new day, remembering my excitement for the new morning the night before as I was settling into my peaceful bedroom and sanctuary–and even in that moment, I remember looking forward to the night, to that moment after dusk when my body seems to finally wind down and says, “It’s time to relax, to sleep, to let the worries and victories and failures and joys of today ebb away.”
I remember how I used to stare down this same driveway and dread the day before me, as if just seeing the edge of that driveway and the sun filtering down upon it sucked the life out of me. But this was another season–a season of long ago, one I look upon now with fondness because without that season, I would not be where I am today.
And there it is again: the idea, the blatant fact that dawn will always give to dusk, and dusk will always give to dawn.
The season I was in gave into another season–sorrow and depression gave into joy and contentment.
And I know better than to think that joy and contentment won’t once again leech into sorrow and depression. But I take comfort in the fact that I will once again know the peaks of joy and contentment and peace again.
And I think that’s what all of us forget from time to time: that we, as humans addicted to daily routines of work and home and family, often fall victim to vicious cycles of repetitive actions that leave us in vicious cycles of repetitive feelings. These feelings often leave us in a negative mind space.
So when you are in these times, please remember–that dawn will leak into dusk, and dusk will brighten into dawn.
You don’t always have to dread the day set before you. You don’t always have to dread the dusk ahead of you.
I think the secret to life is finding joy in both. Seeing the beauty and value in both so that no matter what time or season you are in–no matter if the sun’s bright rays grace your beautiful strands of hair or no matter if dusk’s shadows settle all around you–you always are in a place of gratitude and appreciation.
Gratitude and appreciation are the keys to getting out . . . to getting out of that vicious cycle . . .
. . . and to getting out of seeing the edge of a driveway as a thing of dread instead of a thing of beauty and ambition and humanity.
Dawn or dusk . . . you can learn to love both. To enjoy life in both.
Because both are important to time, life, and you.
Because nothing gold . . . can really stay.