Posts Tagged ‘sadness’

The presence of memory

September 1, 2010

It has only been two weeks since the Magic cat left and her absence still looms large in my days and nights. That little cat taught me a very significant lesson about being present: I need to pay attention to now because I am creating tomorrow’s memories.

At first, I thought it was an odd way to be present because it presumes there will be a tomorrow when all we really know is that we have the eternal present. There are these past presents, though, that come around to haunt me either with their sorrow or with their joy. With my 20/20 hindsight, I can clearly see and know how I could have been more present, how I could have responded differently.

If I get caught up in the woes of yesterday or the endless search to recreate my pleasures, I will miss the present opportunities. Given the cyclical nature of most people’s behaviors, there will likely be other events for me to practice a new and different response. Each time I practice a different response, I create a new memory that can support me in all my tomorrows. I can capture the essence of joy and imprint its feeling in my cells. The memory of joy helps balance the sorrows and losses that often fill me in the last moments of those I love.

Each present moment is a lesson. The studying and learning of life comes with the reflection of the memory. While we may not always have a choice over the events in our lives, we always have a choice on how we are going to apply the lesson we interpret from those events.

©2010 by Barbara L. Kass

Ending presence

April 28, 2010

Ending presence is being with the total irreversibility of life and knowing that is the way our existence is ruled . . . for now (I can’t speak to any other reality except this one.)

It is the closure of an experience that caught my attention today. Even though each moment of our lives is a different experience than the moment before, there are consistencies that we grow to depend on like home, family, and work.

A home that once was mine became the home of others today. While I feel this enormous element of relief, it is tinged with regret and sadness. Attached to that home were dreams, hopes, and desires that did not have a chance to unfold. My time there was interrupted by another, more important calling that has taken much of my time and energy over the past five years. That calling, so far, has failed to turn out as I imagined it should have.

And I wonder if I had stayed in that home and ignored the other calling, where would I be in this life now?

My gratitude attitude says to be thankful for what I have now and that the other calling is still a possibility, even if it is not unfolding as I think it should be.

©2010 by Barbara L. Kass