Life has recently left some cruel reminders about its delicacy. Car accidents killing people, young and old. Diagnosed terminal illness, the inoperable kind.
I'm realizing that all of these perspective moments deserve pause. Life is full of em. Teaching us plenty along the way.
But it’s been revealing one particular fact as of late—Nothing is guaranteed.
Nothing.
It feels like life will just continue. It often tricks me into thinking that every day will start and end the same, forever. But eventually it stops. It ends.
There's a harshness in that truth. A crude reality. I've been shown some of it throughout my short career—the constant invitation into someone else's personal hell.
Some of it is taught through my children and the new fears that are continually unlocked as a parent in the modern world. And of course some of it I stumble upon myself through teachings and books and learning from others.
Even still, I catch myself looking ahead in life. Daydreaming into the future, as if the time is guaranteed. I dream of my kids and what we'll talk about when they're 13. What college they'll want to go to. What their weddings will be like. My mind wanders there, like there's a special assurance that I'll see it all.
The hard truth is that none of this time is a forgone conclusion. But these tragic deaths that happen too soon—they represent yet another reminder that life is here and now. It's not lived in the future or the past.
The past is made up of memories. The future, dreams. Right now is where life is happening. Moment by moment. I struggle to cherish it. And I fight like hell to focus in on the truly important stuff. Because dammit that struggle is worth it. It's worth every ounce of energy to keep my mind right here, right now. If it wanders too far for too long, then I'm just missing the crucial part. I'm missing the living part.
Life smacks us in the mouth with these violent reminders that tomorrow might not be there, time and again. So I guess I better make damn sure I'm trying my hardest to be the best version of me, today.
At least I'll know that whatever broken version shows up is the best one I got. And I can live with that.