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The Graveyard

INSPIRED INGENUITYI was walking through an old grave yard which sits in the middle of a sprawling subdivision. The head stones are encased by a wrought iron fence, and behind this cemetery from the mid 1800’s sits a modern playground. Its swings, slides and monkey bars full of life from the many children who call this neighborhood home.

As I walk through the rows of broken stones, old trees, and remnants of another time. I can’t help but think how all those that lie beneath the ground are more than likely gone from all memories of those above the ground. The relatives who laid these souls to rest more than a hundred years earlier never imagined the broken disintegrating head stones, or that a playground full of life would be built by a future generation, just five feet away in the shadows of its head stones.

GRAVEIn the end we all are lost memories, some may have stronger head stones, or bronze statues, some may have stories written of their lives, and some may be notorious. One thing is common to all human kind sooner or later we leave the living.

One should focus on why they would be missed, rather than what they may be missing.”

As I reflect on a life more than half over, I imagine how long will the memories of me last, who will wonder 100 plus years from now what I did, in a life which in the space of time was a quick as it will take someone to read the dates of my birth and the date I died from my weathered head stone. Reality is: the future is a gathering of all that has been before it. As we humans age we become more aware of the world around us. Those lucky enough to live full lives appreciate each day, and don’t take tomorrow for granted, like so many young people do.

One’s religion may define in one’s mind, and bring comfort in deaths aftermath. As I stood over those broken gravestones with unreadable dates from years of Mother Nature scrubbing them smooth. I thought who in this graveyard was right in their definition of the afterlife. Eventually everyone will find their way to life’s conclusion, and get their answer.

One thing history has told those who listen, in the end we are just memories, and eventually those memories also perish from the living. So what if – we were all decent, respectful, and believed the afterlife is based on how we treat people, instead of how we judge people. Just a few thoughts sparked by a walk through an old cemetery.

Ray Stasieczko
Ray Stasieczkohttps://www.linkedin.com/in/raystasieczko/
THROUGH my creativity and passion for innovation, I help organizations navigate through needed changes. Over the past thirty years, I have had successes and faced challenges. The challenges organizations face today, I not only recognize them, I’ve experienced and navigated them firsthand. Delivering services to all marketplaces continues transforming. Competition is coming from places no one would have imagined. My innovative thinking benefits organizations who recognize change is needed, and more importantly, recognize the value of creativity fueled by experiences. The future of the business to business or business to consumers marketplace will require unique collaboration. I understand the importance of collaboration and have the imagination to bring uniqueness in delivering it. I believe successful innovation and transformation only happens “When an organizations focus is on bringing the future to the present, instead of bringing the past to the future.”

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4 CONVERSATIONS

  1. I think it depends on the person. I visit the gravesite of all my family and relatives regardless of where in the world they may be laid to rest. Out of respect, whether I met them or not. I find quite often that walking through a cemetery is very peaceful and it certainly makes you think. Its sad to see babies and young children who never got the chance to live life but their memories live on to those they left. I think that’s why they are called memories, remembrance of their life.

  2. I found your article interesting as I so often while passing cemeteries, sitting in the midst of traffic and having the thoughts run through my mind, “How long have some been gone”, are they remembered.?” Then as quickly as the thoughts come, they go, and perhaps that is as quickly as one is remembered.

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