Three things from DAH
(DAH is me, David Anthony Hance)

First up this week, Yesterday …  
Yesterday's gone. "Why not think about times to come? And not about the things that you've done" (Christine McVie). Never one to dwell upon the past, I do recall a few cringeworthy moments. Times when I knew I wasn't living true to my values and hopes. We learn (maybe) and move on from yesterday. Two interesting aspects of our current millennium, however, seem to me (1) an increasing focus on now and (2) a decreasing ability to imagine positive futures … as though our zeitgeist is colored by fear and dread. Financially successful media platforms hold our attention (capturing eyeballs for advertisers) by sharing fear and dread. Is there really more to fear and dread now than 30 years ago? I suspect not. But anxiety niggles beneath my skin regardless. 
Fleetwood Mac with the USC Marching Band … in the days before my hope was rubbed a bit raw 

Second up this week, Yonder …  
Somewhere over there, that's yonder. Yonder's been with us forever and it's been a part of English since the 1300s. Some word had to be the opposite of hither, right? But hither seems smaller and closer. Yonder sounds like there might be something great just beyond those hills over there. Yonder offers more optimism, I think. Moving on from behind, from before, from here and now, to something vast with potential for more … more … something. 
80th Birthday of "The U.S. Air Force Song" (a fun, single long shot) 

Third up this week, Yarage …  
A handy, maneuverable ship is yar. Since I'm not a seafaring sort I only know the word from a scene in a movie, The Philadelphia Story. In that movie the once and future couple's sailing yacht is named True Love, and she is reported to be (or have been) yar. On my journey from yesterdays to yonder, I fancy being yar would be a great advantage, juxtamarine or not. In last week's letter I aspired to be a joyful dog. I'd like to update that aspiration: a yar and joyful dog, heading into the yonder. That's the ticket. 
The Philadelphia Story (Grant & Hepburn on yarage)

And a bit more:

from Macbeth (Act 5, scene 5)
by William Shakespeare

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

And that's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver’s poem Sometimes …  

Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it. 

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