1991 Early spring Jim’s hills, I think? Little Mark at five years old, Ed at 53 Who took this picture? Such a perfect composition Such a perfect meditation On presence and impermanence The pasqueflowers, long awaited through winter’s cold Bloom only for a few days The feather cast off and soon to return to the Earth But as yet unblemished by time And ourselves, fully present and immersed Sharing a moment of joy together On a river of time
So many years ahead, yet unknown Stanton and Frances still alive Twenty-five more cycles for Ed Twenty-five more springtimes Twenty-five more seasons of that hat A very finite number Yet seemingly infinite and indefinite In each passing day and year Floods, gardens, Christmas celebrations Graduations, weddings, travels All unknown and unknowable in this moment All unimportant in this moment
So much time we spend Seeking for truth Examining the nature of reality Pondering ideologies Debating with anger and passion Experiencing others’ stories in the news Interacting with a virtual world through our screens
It all seems so meaningful and important And it is, in a way Creating this collective experience together And seeking to find our home and our truth within it And yet in a world of seven billion human souls There is little we can change And we should perhaps take solace In our individual insignificance
We can read the writings of Greek and Roman philosophers Heed the teachings of Jesus or Mohamed Honor the founding fathers of our nation Read the autobiographies of former slaves Pick our way through competing narratives And campaign for a better world That is important for our evolution For our betterment
And yet narrative and thought exists outside of time All of history available in the present All of the present available in the cloud All of that removed, abstracted, separated From the pasqueflowers and feathers The explorations and gatherings The gardens and harvests and births and deaths The singular uniqueness of each moment The bittersweet inevitability of change And the inevitable finiteness of human life
To step too far into the cloud To spend too many hours on our screens Is to step into a timeless existence Unaffected by the weather Unnoticing of the pasqueflowers Unchanging with the seasons Outside the river of time Which flows on regardless Carrying us from cradle to grave Whether we are awake Or inured to the wonders around us
So let this be a reminder to me In times of collective anxiety Of competing narratives Of unrest and upheaval To find the pasqueflowers in their short season And the daphnes and the lilacs To plant the seeds To watch them grow To harvest in its time To look in the eyes of those I love And see them as who they are in this moment An alive, experiencing presence Not merely a collection of stories and ideas and memories Of narratives and perceptions and arguments past To be present in each moment, in each day, in each year Knowing that what is will not last Which is both bittersweet and cause for celebration
And perhaps if we can all be more present Away from our screens and echo chambers of thought Then we might be able to begin to agree On what is real We might be able to share experiences To build connections To find our way forward together In a chaotic, uncertain, tumultuous But ultimately beautiful world
