Estimated reading time: 3 minute(s)
I feel like a broken record sometimes.
No matter how many years (or decades) I have traveled the solar circuit… I feel like I keep learning the same lessons.
One of those is this: we have a limited time here—so make the most of it.
This is not a “rah-rah” post intended to inspire you to some unimagined greatness. But I do hope that, like me, you’ll be reminded that somethings are not worth fretting over.
Some things are.
It’s not so much that fretting, worrying, bothering, troubling ever does any good. All of that originates with fear. Fear of losing, fear of changing, fear of any bad that might come.
Not that it’s bad to concern ourselves with some things. Things like your kids who are growing up, your spouse who misses precious time with you, your parents who are aging, close friends with whom you’ve inadvertently lost contact… at least, you think it was inadvertent.
There may even be some dream, begun way back with your earliest memories, that the relentless rush of life and obligations has pushed aside.
We have a limited time. It is certain that one day—we don’t know when—our time here will be done.
So live.
Dream. Love. Enjoy. Experience. Now is the time.
What got me thinking about this again was not just our friends who are dealing with stage four cancer, nor any news of sudden, unexpected death of anyone close to me. Nor was it the frustrations of financial finagling that we are caught up in again (for what seems like now far too long).
It was more the words of my daughter, commenting more often lately that “all [you] ever do is work, Dad!” Her heart is longing to connect with mine. (And we do connect, but she wants more.)
It was even thoughts of a life that I have often thought of pursuing, but always turned aside from because of the demands and obligations of life. But I am recently reminded: truly, if you want something to happen… you must simply do it.
And then there’s our son. The first person to transform me from son to father. He’s fifteen, going on twenty-five. We butt heads now and then—a strong Campbell trait—but I admire him more than clash with him. It’s just fun to root him on in his various endeavors: all-star goalie, aspiring novelist, farmer, mechanic, among others.
Sometimes reality knocks loudly enough and I am reminded that this current season is likely ending soon.
Before we blink, our son will be moving on—his adult life is nearer than I can really understand. He’s ready now to do something—anything—with all that he is learning. Then, who knows? Wife… kids… I was only 24 when Ian was born.
But we’re not there yet.
And I’m brought back to where I started. Reminded again of things already learned. Live now, today. Don’t miss it.
Are you missing your life for want of whatever is next, or seems to be missing? Sometimes I focus on those.
This week, I have work to do, and life to balance… but I don’t want to miss my life while I’m doing those things.
Like you, I have a shortage of time. I don’t know when the end will come, but I do know that it will.
Since it has not yet come… Let’s choose to live now, as best as we are able.