Each moment is just what it is.
It might be the only moment of our life; it might be the only strawberry we’ll ever eat.
We could get depressed about it, or we could finally appreciate it and delight in the preciousness of every single moment of our life.
(Pema Chodron)
It’s the small things that can sometimes make the greatest impact! The fleeting moments can become a beautiful memory.
Life can be as simple as eating the first strawberry you find or as complicated as trying to find one to eat. Whichever leads to happiness, enjoy the process and remember it. Don’t overthink or oversimplify it.
Happiness is within your grasp if you learn to enjoy the moments you have right now – not those you’ve left behind or even those that have yet to happen. Be present. Enjoy the now!
The strange co-relation between living and time is that when you wish for time to pass quickly, it doesn’t. And when you wish for time to slow down, especially if you’re rushing to complete a project or perhaps you’re running late to a certain appointment, it doesn’t. That’s the paradox.
Time is what makes us aware that we’re alive, because nothing truly stands still or stays the same. Even a building will deteriorate with time, just as our aging bodies do.
This life we live right now has an expiry date, we just don’t know when it’s going to be for each of us.
Life is not a computer game where we can quit mid-way and reset at will. Our life just keeps advancing day by day, hour by hour, second by second. When you’re thinking of the present, in the blinking of an eye, that very thought has become a past memory.
Some days are tougher than others, especially when they involve relationships. It may be a hurtful event or even a break-up. Be brave, hang on, a healing moment may just be around the corner waiting eagerly to replace this hurtful memory.
Or perhaps a loved one may have passed on from this life to the next. For those left behind, eternity is captured in those moments you had spent with them. These special eternity moments can help sustain our todays and tomorrows. Even then, don’t dwell too long or cling too much to the grief. Allow time to help you heal so that when you recall these precious loved ones, there is no longer sorrow that accompanies these memories.
When you think you can’t overcome those bad days, you can always turn to God. The God I know is always waiting to pull me out of the miry clay that I’ve found my feet stuck in.
At any rate, appreciate the precious moments of your life; take time to make happy memories, especially with the people who help make them happen. No one knows when the strawberry moments will come your way again. So enjoy them when you can. Even better, share these moments.
Choose wisely how you spend your time and with whom you spend it, for we are all given a limited supply of time. So live your life passionately so that you won’t have any regrets. Enjoy!
Artist and Text: Anna G.
The Last Ride
I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes, I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift, I thought about just driving away, but instead I parked my car and walked up to the door and knocked.
‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice.
I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90s stood before me. Looking like someone from a 1940s movie, she was wearing a print dress and a pill box hat with a veil pinned on it. She had a small nylon suitcase at her side. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
“Would you carry my bag out to the car please?” she asked.
I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.
“It’s nothing,” I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.”
“Oh, you’re such a good boy”, she said.
When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked,
“Could you drive through downtown?”
“It’s not the shortest way,” I quickly answered.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she replied,”I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.”
I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening.
“I don’t have any family left,” she continued in a soft voice. “The doctor says I don’t have very much longer.”
I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
“What route would you like me to take?”I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived, when they were newlyweds. She had me pulled up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she’d ask me to slow down in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said,
“I’m tired. Let’s go now.”
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.
“Nothing,” I replied.
“You have to make a living,” she said.
“There are other passengers”, I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy”, she said. “Thank you.”
I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life. I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.
We are conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware – beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
Author: New York City taxi driver.much
