I’ll say life is like whiskey. Which is a beautiful creation if kept in good graces. And a fare weather friend when we choose not to. Which reminds me of the consequences of our choices, intended or otherwise. Some good. Some regrettable. Some bring no choice at all, when we are chosen to be subject to things that we’d rather avoid. Even when we think we’re prepared.
But there’s more.
The making of your life is also like the making of fine whiskey. You pour your heart (and some ingredients, the most coveted being time) into a barrel and let Mother Nature do the rest. You fill it to the brim and you seal it for what seems like eternity. One day you return to harvest the fruits of your hard work and patience. What you find is a lot less whiskey than when you started. What’s lost to the aging process is known as “the angel’s share.” If one were aloof to the magic of whiskey making that very same one would be initially bereaved. Until that one tasted what the angels were gracious enough to leave. Then one would realize that to make great whiskey one must be willing to lose some. There’s no other way. If you claim every initial ounce as yours, you’ll be disappointed. (I admit there are times I’d rather not share.) It’s just in your care for a time. Then it’s time for a new time. A time that could only be brought about by loss and condensation. What accompanies is a taste (and a feeling) that rarely has a match.
So it is with us. We are given much. We create more. But it’s not all ours and often not forever. What remains though is beautiful, a tribute to ourselves and others. You don’t have to choose to see it this way. But you could. You could raise your glass to life. Even when life seems to have you over a barrel. It could become a celebration, not simply an escape. Others could see that you are not defined by what didn’t work out. Perhaps you might even learn to find purpose in it.
But that just might be the whiskey talking.
