There are many lessons upon the life that surrounds us,
permeates us, with one of those lessons being about our past events. We spend
decades, months, weeks, with the seconds taunting us like the villains from films we view upon a given day. We think about the moments of this, the other,
or that instance where we could have said more, done more, or experienced less
regret.
These lessons of life, of experience, still evade our
deceptive notions of surrender and relief. We believe that we’re over something,
having moved a day away from the events, but seldom do we realistically escape
our torturous mind’s grasp.
Then there’s the secondary lesson, to never venture too far
from the steps ahead of us. We wish to run, to stride forward as if our lives were
assured and constant but, as is the case with many future events, nothing is
quite as stable as we predict.
We aspire to do more, be more or, even, to escape any brave
chances in the hope that normality and safety will keep us warm within our
nights. The future is and can always be chaotic. If only we were given an egg
timer and the opportunity to see future events. Would we and should we?
Despite the two lessons of life, we often reside within one
of the two situations. The past haunts our waking moments, with the future
possibly supplying the salvation we desperately wish for. Both, vacant moments
of expansive, faded events of possibilities. The two, taunting and gasping at
the chance to become something more than vivid, tortuous dreams. To live within either setting can only result in a person wondering if there's more to life.
The third lesson is the lesson of ages. All through my own
life I’ve heard the same notion expressed over and over again and, thankfully,
when my mind is at rest I ‘live’ the lesson as much as I can. The trouble with
knowing a lesson, is obviously practising that lesson. My own faults arise when
the silent passenger within my thoughts whispers their taunts. The past does not
escape any single person upon this world. What could have been. What would have
been. If only. Try as we might, our minds do what they do best. They quiz, they
question, they chastise and admonish.
At some point we realise that we’re unfortunately no longer children.
Although I hold onto my youthful nature, with comedic timing being somewhat of
a skill, there are times that remind me of the mind’s weight upon my shoulders.
I have found safe places, the safe places that I wished that we all knew. I do
have a sanctuary and, thankfully, I seldom think about the impending future. We
must all have a blinking eye set upon what might happen and that, especially,
leads to the conclusion.
The very last, as well as first lesson for every single human
being, is that we must live within the moment. We may kiss a thousand lips,
hold many a hand, but those memories can turn to pain and, upon another day,
become thoughts of joy, sorrow, or remorse. I do not wish to be haunted by faded
memories. It’s unnecessary. I also do not wish for tomorrow to save me from
some type of breath defeating anxiety or hopelessness.
For quite a long time, I’ve tried so very hard to live my
life with the notion that this very moment is the only moment that matters.
Another truth is that it is. Every moment, this moment, has now become a
memory. Each step, every word or thought, changes the future and becomes your memories. This is why I am the person I am. I respect, I love, I cherish and I try to be as good as I can be. Do I fail? Of course, as I'm always learning.
The past traps you, holds you and wishes to never remove
its embrace. The future also traps you, into the notion that action can be taken at
a later date. Even one thought at this very moment, is a step to achieving a
future goal, even if it looks like you’re standing immobile. The decision has,
at least, been made for a person to advance. Of course, the danger of the past, is that it supplies fear to the present and incorrect decisions based on fear, can damage each proceeding day or action.
In the end, when everything has been procrastinated, or the
impulsive desire met for tomorrow, there truly is only the present moment that
counts. Or, if I may be so bold as to state, that there’s only one day that
counts and that singular day is… today.
