Momentous

“Life becomes more meaningful when you realize the simple fact that you’ll never get the same moment twice.”  -Anonymous

I saw this on Facebook tonight, and it sparked conversation with my dear friend, and along with that, some realizations... 

We cling, fiercely, to what we want, like baby monkeys.  Some moments are so sweet, so precious, so alive with pleasure, that we want them to last forever.  We want to keep experiencing them, over and over.  We hold fast to our memories, take pictures, tell stories, post on social media.  We want to keep the magic, like a ticket stub.  Which is exactly WHY we keep the actual ticket stubs, making scrapbook pages with them.  Moments strung together on a string, a faux-pearl necklace that we cherish simply because they are ours.   Some stones are exquisite, some lumpy, some dull, some luminous.  But they are all gorgeous because they belong to us.

We taste these moments and we want more, not unlike the proverbial potato chips.  So we try to recreate them.  We have the same meal, on the same day, wearing the same things, sticking to the script, remembering the actual event, pulling out the pictures and the videos, laughing uproariously or softly.  We cast the same spell, hoping for, expecting the same magic to come forth.  Or sometimes we might have a thorn of regret and might to try to recreate a moment and do it right this time.  Fix it.  We all want redemption: it promises a release of our disappointment, our shame, which comes hot and heavy. 

This re-creation is where tradition is born.  Tradition is performing the same event over and over, ritually, passing it down to others. Naturally, there’s nothing wrong with tradition.  They even wrote a song about it.   It’s an honorable thing to remember, to initiate children and other new members into family events, that foster a deeper sense of belonging.   Also to remember the times we shared with those who are no longer with the living.  And to do it right this time, if our memories are stained by past mistakes.  

But to hold so tightly, to wish for these same moments to repeat ad infinitum, so we can feel the way we felt then, all the time…well, it just doesn’t happen.  It falls through the spaces between our fingers.  You can’t go home again.  And when we are myopic about it, we miss the moments we DO have, right now, right here, before our very eyes.  We overlook the opportunity to create new moments, new memories, absolutely just as magical as the ones we remember.   The moment now, every single now, is a point of creation.  If we gesso the picture we have in our heads of how it’s supposed to be, then we have a beautiful blank canvas to paint on, with NOW. 

And when we celebrate all of the moments as original and completely their own sweet selves, we develop a sense of taste that is multifaceted and has a depth we never knew.  Even embracing traditions doesn’t have that desperate sense of getting everything perfect—we can reinvent traditions in new and glorious ways, making them even more magical.   All we have to do is stay open to the sea of possibilities.