Monday, January 3, 2005

A Solitary Resolution

A beautiful sight filled the sky early Saturday morning as I was clearing off the tables in the dining room where I work. It was an enormous, complete rainbow, brilliant in the full spectrum of its colors and awesome in its span. I chose to regard this as a positive omen for the new year. One must always remain hopeful. A new year--a clean slate upon which to mark our dreams, wishes, goals and accomplishments. I don’t create a list of resolutions at the beginning of each year. Through past experience, I’ve found that doing so does little more than set oneself up for failure. We all know what we need to do, what areas of our lives could use some improvement.

It hadn’t occurred to me before but I see from the majority of my journal entries over the past year, I seem to look backward on what my life has been rather than forward to what it could or will be. I don’t think it’s a case of living in the past. I’m very much alive and well and extremely happy in the present. My memories of my life thus far are wonderful for the most part and I enjoy writing about them in this medium which I discovered about a year ago. Much to my distress, I have already reached the age where it seems that time is flying by. Long ago, my parents would occasionally comment that this was a red flag signaling that the years were creeping up on you. I don’t want to be crept up on and, therefore, the closest I’ve decided to come to making a resolution for this year is to try to enjoy and live each day to its fullest, one day at a time.

This sounds ridiculously simple and somewhat inane, I know, but I don’t think it’s as easy a task as it appears. We are all so caught up in the whirlwind of what’s happening next week, next month, next season, next holiday, etc. that the here and now gets lost. John Lennon wrote a love song to his second son many years ago entitled, "Beautiful Boy". It contains a line that has long stood out to me as a wake-up call as to how one should approach life:

                "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans"

I would like to start paying closer attention to what’s going on around me in the present rather than focusing on the usual, endless chant of "I can’t wait until this day’s over", "Will the weekend ever get here?", "I can’t wait until this month, season, whatever is over". I’m not referring to the joy of anticipation here, a feeling which enhances special times and events. It’s the brow-beating of one day into the next and to what exactly is it that we’re all so madly rushing? I’ve begun to view it as nothing more than a mad dash to our final destination on the earth--death. We’re constantly bombarded with reminders of what will be going on in the future; the present has disappeared. This is my take on what seems to be happening, in my life at least, and I’m going to try very hard to enjoy and savor each day as it unfolds. Yes, it’s true; yet another manifestation of maturity because it seems that this has all turned out to be nothing more than my personal version of "Take time to stop and smell the roses". And that’s not a bad idea either!


 

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

"Take time to stop and smell the roses."  How many times have we heard this?  But, at some point, the MEANING of it eventually smacks us all right in the face.  I agree with you...I HATE wishing away my life by wishing away the bad times,or the boring times, or the times that lay in between now and something that I'm really looking forward to.  I'm getting to the age that I truly believe I can't afford to wish ANY time to pass quickly, be it a happy time, or a time of grief or unhappiness.  Lisa  :-]  

Anonymous said...

Due to my custody agreement with my daughter, I often feel that I only truley live for half the year. I love the "alone" time that I have with my wonderous husband without the guilt of leaving her with a sitter when she is with her dad, but I feel only 100% complete when she is here with me. As for taking time to stop and enjoy things, it caught me by suprize that I had stopped doing that. I am not sure where or when I started taking everyday things for granted, but it took my daughter, again, to realize that I had. Taking a simple walk around the block with a then 3 year old is an eye opener! You must see every flower, and discuss its color. Let every little bug stop you in your path and wave good bye to it. You notice that one cloud, way to the left really does look like a bunny etc....

Anonymous said...

ps
I find the title of what youre listening to and the journal subject to be an interesting choice!