A Soft Landing

A Soft Landing

John Paul Derryberry

Have you ever talked to a well-adjusted person in their advanced years and heard them talk about life? I'm talking about a person who is wholly at peace with their life. Maybe they loved the same person for 60 years, or perhaps they didn't find the right person until they were 52. Perhaps they followed their passion for their dream. Maybe they changed goals often, or they gave up a dream because a responsibility came calling. Their tone of voice is the most soothing voice one can hear. Even in moments of distress such as watching a person they loved for a year pass on, they figured out a way to express love, sadness, grief, and dismay beautifully. 

I recently had the pleasure of interacting with a person who had achieved this nirvana. Life hardens so many people over the years. The daily grind to feel worthy of love, to feel empowered to walk our correct path and not to fall victim to our most massive faults is difficult for everyone.  We all know people who fall victim to hardening their emotions, beliefs and actions toward others.  There is no need to bring up anyone's faults because, with a couple of twists or turns, it could be me at an advanced age who has hardened to the compassion of others. The person I interacted with had a reason to be standoffish and not see the bright side of life, yet they did not.

Instead, their voice became somehow more calming, compassionate, and rooted in a life well-lived. People who have arrived at this peace with life don't lack regrets. They didn't avoid moments that could have potentially harmed them. They have scars, bad moments they wish they could have done differently. They have known great sadness. There is no way to live a well-lived life without becoming friendly with great sorrow. They have found a way to move through the moments, to let them go, learn from them, and ultimately accept that it was just a moment and move on. They have a fantastic ability to forgive others, to be honest about their life, and remain both vulnerable and compassionate at the same time. 

I hope this is me at an advanced age: looking out over a setting sun, as I sit with some young person who hears in the tone of my voice a man at peace with the life I have lived. I hope they see a man who found a way to stay compassionate and vulnerable no matter what happened to me; a man who loved people and forgave those who had wronged him; a guy who stayed true to his passions and dreams.

Most importantly, I hope I will have been a man who found a way to remain unselfish in a culture that attempts to force selfish behavior at every turn. I hope I will have been a guy whose voice softened over the years because he had learned there was always more to learn from the people around him. I hope I will have been a guy who learned that life happens whether we harden to it or not; a guy who knew the importance of enjoying every sunset because most people begin to take that type of beauty for granted. And finally, I hope they find a man who gave up shouting because he had learned that the power of a soft whisper carries farther than a yell. He had learned the power of a gentle voice is contained in its soft landing on others.