What Gets Lost
While this sounds like a bad thing, maybe not. What if we just willingly give up those things that no longer serve us? Release the trivial things, the annoying patterns, the thoughtless habits accumulated over a lifetime, the painfully constrictive conventions of others? What if we could keep the jeweled moments of family time, the solitary, introspective slices of our day and the warm spaces we fill with close friends? Would that create a new and more expressive kind of time?
I once attended a family gathering where I took photos of my cousin tossing his brother’s son on his lap, of his wife when she didn’t notice I was there. I recorded my uncle as he turned 70 years old and served his birthday cake to us all. These moments were fleeting, but valuable to me.
One month later, as I was transferring photos from my camera to storage to make more room, a glitch caused me to lose those and many more photos. Clearing space. What got lost? I don’t even know. The images themselves are floating as specks of electrons in the ether, maybe to coalesce at some distant place, maybe not. I can see some of them though, right now, frozen in time.
What did NOT get lost? The time spent with family, the memories held, and the ability to create more of the same. The choice to be there was, for me, more important than any of the other choices I could have made on that day. I lost nothing.
Each day I can choose what I let Father Time take, or rather what I give to him, willingly and with a smile. I will keep just enough, I will keep the golden plenty and be gracious, and expand time to the boundaries of my universe. Time is not my nemesis, but my mentor, teaching me focus and gratitude and enlarging the boundaries of my existence.
In making our choices today, consider what gets lost.