Alexandersmap

    Tag: Seals & Crofts

    • For Now

      When is the last time you will ever do something? Sometimes we know in the moment, like saying goodbye to someone on their deathbed, or closing the door on an apartment we spend some notable time living in as we move out and move on. The weight of that last goodbye may hit us particularly hard, or barely register in that busy moment but whisper to us for years afterward. Last goodbyes mark transition points in our lives—points from which we know we’re never going back again.

      Goodbye, for nows are a less permanent but still notable closure on some chapter of our lives. Yesterday I went for a swim in the bay, the air a little crisp, the water warmer but clearly cooling off, and a wave of goodbye for now emotion rolled over me as I toweled off in the cool breeze. I may well swim again this season, but odds are it was the last one until next summer. Or maybe forever. We never really know, do we? So we must savor each experience like we’re turning the last breathless page in a thrilling novel. We may never pass this way again.

      September brings obvious signs that the season is ending. The cucumbers are fading rapidly now, and so are the tomatoes. Savor, they remind me, for you’ll be doomed to the supermarket variety soon enough (good god—no!). Venus and Jupiter rise in the early morning sky and Orion is more prominent again. The crickets are having a final, desperate word, the nut-gathering rodents play chicken with cars and frantic frisbee dogs. It’s all happening, right before our eyes and waiting for us to notice.

      Life doesn’t wait for us, we must experience the season we’re in before it’s over forever. Tempus fugit, friend: Time flies. So, if only for now, trap yourself in the amber of this moment a beat longer. Each day offers a goodbye. Be sure to look it squarely in the eye just once, that we may remember something of it.

    • Story Weaving

      “To achieve great things, two things are needed: a plan and not quite enough time.” ― Leonard Bernstein

      The end of July regularly presents a staggeringly quick departure of the potential of summer. August brings us the dog days of summer, and for many, an early return to the structure of school or work. I used to believe that summer ended after the 4th of July. Nowadays I don’t worry as much about beginnings and endings of seasons, but note the changes nonetheless. We have the time we have. Use it or lose it. It’s the beginning of harvest time—but what have we sown?

      Summer changes by the day, and of course, so do we. Instead of regretting the passing of time, we ought to focus on what we’re doing with it now. We make our grand plans—how are those going? When is that novel coming out anyway? How about that fitness routine started and restarted again? Books read? Projects completed? The list goes on, but we know the score. Life has its say. It’s up to us to weave our story in and around all that happens along the way.

      Right on queue as I’m writing this, my phone is erupting with work messages pulling my attention away from completing this very blog post. It can be challenging to be mindful and creative when the world demands attention. Turning off the noise isn’t always possible when we live a full life, but we must train ourselves to block off time for the sacrosanct. To fritter and waste the time in an offhand way (thank you Pink Floyd) must be thought of as egregious. For we will never pass this way again (thank you Seals & Crofts).

      To live a creative, fulfilling life, we must find the time, even when there isn’t any time. Put down the phone, turn away from the noise, and focus on the inviolable core hiding behind that superfluous material that must be chiseled away to find (with a nod to Michelangelo). We have the time we have, we have our dreams we wish to pursue in that given time. It’s up to us to realize those dreams. It’s our mission if we choose to accept it (thank you… oh forget it). Just keep weaving, friend. For now is all we have.

    • Celebrate and Savor

      “The thing about knowing you’re doing something for the last time is that it takes the joy right out of it.” ― Lynda Rutledge, West with Giraffes

      I walk through life with a reminder in my head: We may never pass this way again. Not the Seals & Crofts song, for that would leave me stuck in the 1970’s forever, but that phrase. And so it is that I bring more awareness to the things that I do, the conversations I have, the waterfalls and iconic artwork and scenic vistas I encounter. This may be the one and only time this living soul meets this person or encounters this spot, so try to make the most of it.

      It’s a very stoic thing to say to oneself; we may never pass this way again. Marcus Aurelius would nod his head at the phrase, and find it familiar. He famously wrote a few reminders to himself about the urgency of the moment, giving us the gift of Meditations, a book everyone should read and linger with in their lifetime:

      “Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now, take what’s left and live it properly. What doesn’t transmit light creates its own darkness.” ― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

      There’s truth in Rutledge’s statement, for we can suck the joy right out of the moment believing it to be the last dance. Or alternatively, we can simply dance. Memories linger in moments of deep meaning. This begins with awareness of the fragility of our time together. It’s not a cause for sadness but celebration. We are dancing in this moment together! We might go through life believing our best moments are slipping away from us or live in the moment believing we’ve hit the lottery. Haven’t we?

      We ought to go through life in this way, not mourning what will soon pass but appreciating what we are doing, where we are, who we are with, now. It’s a joyful moment when we celebrate and savor it.