It's a new year. Here is some advice on how to live in the new year.

The Station

By Robert J Hastings

Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. on a long trip that spans the continent, We are traveling by train. Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.

But uppermost in OUT minds is the final destination. Bands will be playing andjIags waving. Once we get there our dreams will come true, and the pieces ofour lives will fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering -waiting, waiting, waiting · for the station.

"When we reach the station, that will be it!" we cry.

"When I'm 18. " "When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes-Benz!"

"When I put the last kid through college. " "When I have paid off the mortgage!"

"When I get a promotion. " "When I reach retirement. "

Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. Tne station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.

So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.

Think about it.

Until next week with predictions, I am John Block from Washington.