I want to share a profound experience I had last night, one that I can only make sense of through my participation in this New Year’s schedule.
Even though words may fall short of capturing it completely, the experience was too beautiful to leave unwritten:
While I was sitting on my couch late last night, I was chatting with my spouse, who sat in a Lazy Boy positioned to the left and slightly in front of me. She held our baby boy over her shoulder and gently rubbed his back. As she did, a most peculiar feeling washed over me. His little face, with its full hanging cheeks, curiously locked onto me. His vision was still developing its precision, yet he already knew his father was there by sound alone.
A realization came over me in that moment that, although they and even my home around me were all here right now, I would one day have to relinquish it all. I understand the ongoing transition that I cannot stop, one that moves with permanence in the broader spectrum of existence while altering the specific experiences along the way.
I knew that I could not share this feeling with my spouse, lest she misunderstand me for nihilism.
Truthfully, I felt a deep sadness that all I have is only for a moment, but something even deeper, and wholly unexpected, came over me: appreciation. Yes, a certain richness bestowed Herself upon my brow, and I was gladdened to have all that I had in that moment, for as long as Zeus allows.
Later that night, I dwelled upon the experience and further acknowledged that each day is the death of the last. Therefore, the faces of my children and my love are not the same as they were yesterday, even though I cannot perceive it, and they will not be the same tomorrow.
I participated with my family with far more attentiveness than usual, recognizing our short but sweet journey together.
To conclude, this epiphany hurt my heart, not so much for myself, but for those who love me and cannot fathom that our lives together do indeed have a natural end. Nevertheless, it has made me far more present with them, and with my life at large.
The only things that appear permanent to me are the Path and the Gods.