What a pessimistic title, right? What I plan to talk about isn’t new, it’s not something you have never heard before, but I feel compelled to write so here it goes.
There is no guaranteed tomorrow. I was having a conversation with a dear friend this evening, a truly remarkable soul, and the discussion began to weave in this topic. Not out of pessimism, but out of love for the process of life. I’ve been hit head on with the witnessing of aging decline, and am seeing it happen right before my eyes. I’ve been trying my absolute hardest to get my entire family under one roof, so that we can enjoy the company of one another in these final moments. We get to plan for this, as we have an understanding that this life is (of course) temporary, and in this case we see the writing on the wall. In some ways, I feel blessed. Somehow, knowing that time is limited is allowing me to be fully present in each and every moment. Why then, do I take for granted the day-to-day conversations with others? Knowing the future, seeing the decline, somehow creates a rarity of the time that’s left. But shouldn’t it be this way with every path I cross? How is knowing death is near somehow changing my interactions?
I practice mindfulness, and I am mediocre at it. It fluctuates, dependent upon sleep, time of day, how loaded my day’s events are, and just in general how full my cup is in that moment. I get carried away, as we all do, in the moment-to-moment, day-by-day events. However, somehow knowing the moments remaining are few in this case, I am able to easily set aside the chaos and be fully present… mindfulness in the fullest way possible. What a walking contradiction, right?
In this conversation with my friend, we talked deeply about the inevitability of life. Each and every day, each interaction, each moment, is precious and should be coveted the same way we do with the people with whom time is coming excruciatingly close to ending. I see glimpses of mindful moments when I slow down, when I look at a person in the eyes, when I become quiet and listen.
I was asked, if I could set aside all the chaos for a month, what I would do with that time. The bucket list ran through my head- that road trip I’ve always wanted to take up Highway 101 until I hit Canada, reading the countless books on my bookshelves I have been meaning to read but haven’t found the time, getting back to old hobbies, etc. I immediately shut down when I realized that none of those events were what I really, truly wanted. I wanted stillness, to create a peaceful home with my son to enjoy, full of gardens, bird feeders, a little oasis I could be mindful in and truly present. I wanted life to slow down. I wanted to embrace each person, and each moment, as if it were the last one, the inevitability knocking on the door.
So this brings me back to the beginning, where we started. There’s no guaranteed tomorrow. And with that comes a sense of true presence in life. With this in mind, I create an intention to change my day-to-day interactions with others. I intend to set aside the mindless stress and focus on the here-and-now, the person in front of me, the moment as it happens. To become quiet, so I can truly listen.
Here is my therapy plug. The holidays are coming up, and with this comes massive amounts of grief and loss surfacing (and resurfacing year after year). I encourage you, if you find yourself or someone you love in a place of isolation, loneliness, or just needing someone to talk to through the holidays, you are welcome to reach out and Bridges to Understanding would be happy to be a listening ear.
~ Christy Livingston, LMFT, RPT-S