Life as a collection of moments

 Trying to take stock of a life is a weird thing; you live every day, in and out, and then later on you reflect on that and what it has meant to lead you to the moment you find yourself in.  When I was younger, life seemed so much more vast, so much more infinite. In my twenties, I felt like so much time had already passed and I'd experienced so much, but I knew that there was so much more ahead.  It was an interesting place to look at life, and see what kind of plans you could make for the future. For me, I suppose the whole thing changed when I went from a care-free young person one day to a person with a deadly and chronic disease the next day.  (Of course, in reality, it didn't happen overnight - I'd been sick for ages but unaware. But in my young mind, it seemed almost instantaneous.)

So, I'm a contemplative type - I often think of where I have been, and how it has shaped my today.  Everything I love and enjoy is a result of my past experiences, so I often look to them when I am wondering where to go.  When I was young, I used to believe there was some kind of destination one was headed to; as I get older, I acknowledge what I'd always known but refused to believe in my foolish youth - there is no destination. There is no one right answer, there is no plateau to be reached.  Life changes, goals change, and you're there no matter what.  You either adapt or you languish.

But I still cherish life - and I realize it's been the moments that have made mine so special.  It was the right song on the radio, playing loud as I drove alone in a car at dawn, watching the sunrise crest over the horizon.  It was the quiet of the night as I sat in the woods, around a campfire with friends, yet feeling drawn away to a moment with myself.  It was the song I played in front of a crowd, feeling their love and energy for the music and their gentle encouragement of me as the musician.  It was someone holding my hand during a funeral. It was the sound of laughter echoing through my grandparents house on Christmas. It was holding my new born son, and staring in wonder at the new life I was suddenly tasked with.  It was the right song at the right moment.  It was the friend who wouldn't move. It was the rain falling softly and the right crackle of thunder. It's been so many moments. 

Life isn't great all the time. But remembering the good moments makes it bearable - and it provides the hope that there may be more yet before my time is done.