I spent last
weekend at my cabin with two dear friends and a dog. A woman I’ve known for 25 years flew in from
out of state, a visit we’d been anticipating for months. The three of us walked, talked, meditated,
wrote, read, cooked, gazed at the lake, and played yahtzee. It was a
wonderfully renewing time.
What
occurred to me today is that just as this long-awaited event was now over, so
too would all the other trips and major events I have planned this year. Each one will have a morning after when I
reflect on what’s happened. Every eagerly anticipated gathering, every dreaded
event, each routine appointment comes to an end.
This isn’t
earth shattering news, I know, but somehow today it struck me how poignant our
lives are, how quickly time moves as I get older, and how important to savor
whatever is before me, no matter how routine or grand. If I pay attention, I end
up with moments: a rescue dog’s growing
confidence walking on bare floors, the easy way three women put together meals
and clean up, the sparkle of clarity that comes from being listened to deeply. What moments today will I keep?
