It's About Time

Got a minute? Thanks! I'll try to make this quick. Not sure why, but I seem to be remembering my life in smaller increments. It's not that I'm forgetting more - just remembering less. Or, at least focusing more on fewer things. Littler things. Simpler things. "Times of my life" seem to be condensing into moments in time. Pieces. Fragments. Shards sharp and clear and beautiful. Experiences that I hope never to forget, but that it is not necessary to repeat. As a matter of fact (or fact of matter, if you will), trying to repeat them would be a waste of time. Because, it's chronologically impossible to experience anything more than once. Kind of a, "You cannot step twice into the same stream," kind of thing. Forgetting the worst-movie-ever with my brother and a pitcher of smoothies. French toast, live music and televised soccer at a Portuguese-Irish pub with my mom. Dad and I calling in sick and hanging out at the Montgomery County Fair. Riding the ferry to Ellis Island on Mother's Day with my wife and kids. Natural wonders. Works of art. Conversations. Presence. Transcendence. Coincidence (if one believes in such a thing). So, what, I'm wondering, could be the relationship between these magic moments - each of these tiny transfigurations - and the steady stream of our lives (minute-by-minute-by-minute) upon which we perfect faithfulness and learn to navigate the hazards and currents of time? How is it that we are able to have and to share the experiences and expressions of such wonderful and unfathomable realities as: the life of God; the lives of a world full of people; and the worlds-within-worlds of imagination, hope and dream? "We must not forget that it is not a thing that lends significance to a moment; it is the moment that lends significance to things." ~Abraham Heschel, The Sabbath