Contemplation
Twenty-five years ago,
my friend Richard Exley read me some words I've never forgotten.
Here they are:
If I had my life to live over, I’d try to make more mistakes next time. I would relax. I would limber up. I would be sillier than I have been on this trip. I would be crazier. I would be less hygienic. I would take more chances. I would take more trips. I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets.
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would have more real troubles and fewer imaginary ones. You see, I am one of these people who lives prophylactically and sensibly and sanely, hour after hour, day after day.
Oh, I have had my moments and, if I had it to do over again, I’d have more of them. In fact, I’d try to have nothing else – just moments, one after another, instead of living so many years ahead each day.
I have been one of those people who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a gargle, a raincoat and a parachute.
If I had it to do over again, I would go and do and travel lighter.
If I had my life to live over, I would start barefooted earlier in the spring and stay that way until later in the fall. I would play hooky more. I would ride on more merry-go-rounds.
I’d pick more daisies.
(These words have been attributed to Nadine Stair, Don Herold, an unnamed monk and countless other authors. The only person that I’m sure didn’t write them is me. – RHW)
Richard's reading of those words still echoes in my mind. I can hear his unique inflection on every syllable.
I was twenty-four when he read to me. We were sitting in his office, working on an ad campaign. On Saturday I'll be fifty.
I consider those words to be some of the most wondrous I was ever given.
And now I've given them to you.
Roy H. Williams