Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Don't worry about what's missing, enjoy what's present.

Loss very often propagates regret or remorse. We fail to truly notice the impact of something until it is gone. Then we sulk in its absence. Yes, we recollect and we reminisce, but we can not fill the entire void with these memories. Something remains incomplete. No matter how hard is tried, we cannot revive that which is missing. Sometimes people will vehemently cry; "Oh! If I could have just one more day with...". This is in attempt to quench some thirst for penitence or rather to simply enjoy old comforts. Sometimes all that is needed is the opportunity to say a final word or two someone who is gone, say something, and really mean it.

I write today, not having lost anything. In fact, I have gained something. To recognize the importance and magnitude of one's own gifts while truly appreciating them before they're gone is to assign them even more value. Take for example extrinsic possessions: I own a car which breaks down before I have appreciated the comforts it provided me. I am quite literally stuck without it. Forced to rely on others, walk more or begrudgingly take public transportation, I can now better assess my car's actual value. Now, take for example intrinsic possessions: I lose my sight, I delete the information on my hard drive, I lose a loved one. Aren't these things seemingly much more valuable to me now that they're gone? Seemingly, yes. But they are much more useful when they are present. This is exactly why I feel the need to make this point. To all things present we must show appreciation. We must take advantage of the abilities to have at least 'one more day with' things from that we must eventually part.

Each day provides us with a finite number of moments, and each moment can be utilized or squandered. It will assign life more virtue to cherish it's true value consistently.

*note: I wrote this a while back, and humorously stumbled upon it just hours after I was forced to tow my car away for a new starter. I smiled.


Anonymous said...

Finally something that makes sense.

Anonymous said...

I dont know if thats an insult or a compliment... Oh anonymous, you can sometimes be a jerk, but sometimes are very nice. Sometimes you are a gazelle, though that normally doesnt happen a lot, as the liklihood of a gazelle accidently finding a computer, and by sheer chance pushing the keys with its hooves (as it sniffs around curiously) in just the right order so as to leave a post on this blog under the name "anonymous" is very slim.