So I got up to do my morning thing, grabbed my coffee and started poking around the news as that’s how I usually kick-start my day.
Then I glanced outside the window in between news this and blog that, and saw that it was particularly beautiful out. I looked outside, then back to my computer screen, then back outside. I then said to myself, screw it, cobbled up my smokes, my sunglasses and my coffee and shuffled outside and sat down at our little outdoor table, with my hair still knotted with sleep and decked (HAR!) out in my sweats. I sat, and I was still, nary a thought in my head. And I looked around…
It was chilly, yet sunny. The branches of nearby trees listed and swayed gently in the breeze. The leaves were singing in a language all their own, and although I couldn’t decipher a word, it was no less beautiful. An unseen bird here and there would chirp and tweet back and forth saying who knows what. Maybe they were cracking jokes about the silly human. A delightfully invigorating, yet cool breeze hit my face and tussled my hair as I brought my morning coffee to my lips. I sat my coffee down, closed my eyes, took it in, and just let it blow around me. I tried to let it blow through me but I was too dense. (HAR!)
I was then reminded of something I had thought of years before, in my angsty youth, but had since been robbed from my memory due to the ever pressing matters of modern life. As I sat there, taking in the most trivial-of-trivial events, I realized that I had been un-alive for eternity. And in a blink of an eye, I would again, return to that same state of being un-alive, again, forever. In this brief moment in time, I came to realize that a time would come when I would no longer be here, in command of faculties, to perceive the breeze, the fragrance of our neighbor’s flowers, the sound of the leaves, the swaying of the trees and the fresh, fresh air filling my lungs, and the sound of a car, it’s undercarriage crunching, as its driver mistakenly lodged it upon a parking bumper.
They say you never realize what you’ve had until you’ve lost it. And for a brief moment in time, I had everything.
There will come a time when I will bargain, with futility, to give anything and everything for one last breath of fresh air. To hear one last brushing of the leaves. To partake, one last time, in the neighbor’s flowers. And, yes, even to hear one more time, the incredibly funny crunch of a beached car.
It seems, that in all our scrambling and fretting and worrying, we seem to so tragically forget just how transitive our time here on this Earth truly is. I shall then, endeavor, evermore, to savor all that I have, in each moment, now, instead of squandering the time I have on the things I have not, and regretting those things lost.
I shouldn’t need to be reminded of this.