"Everything passes. Nobody gets anything for keeps. And that's how we've got to live."
- Haruki Murakami -
In this moment, as I write, time passes. The inevitability of change is all around me: in my breath and the cells of my being; in the wind as it changes course; in the weather, as it doesn't do what it did last year or the year before; in the love I feel for my husband, because it's quadrupled since I first met him and keeps multiplying exponentially; in my writing.
And what was a day or a year ago is no longer. It passes. And that's okay.
I used to have moments that were profound, dripping of happiness or love, and I would want to stay in that moment forever, milking that feeling for eternity.
And then the moment would pass.
I would be left with living life where things happen, like me not getting the job I wanted, or running out of milk, or having to show up in my effort to move forward in life, or . . . whatever it may be. In those moments I would feel stuck in the muck of mundane-living—this will never end, I will always be here, this is too difficult, etc.
Whether I perceive the moment passing as something worthwhile or not, it will still leave me.
Now, I attempt to stay with my moments, feeling them as they go, passing through my fingers like sand in the hourglass. I am not regretful of their passing, more accepting of what was to what is, until what is changes to was and so on.
There is joy and grace in my days, a sense of honor and privilege to experience my life.
The question always is, "Am I truly experiencing my moment?"
Today, I can say, "Yes!"
Haruki Murakami was born in Kyoto, Japan on January 12, 1949 and hasn't left this world yet. He is an international bestseller of contemporary fiction and non-fiction. He's won a plethora of awards, as well as gaining a steady collection of critical acclaim in Japan and elsewhere. Some of his works include, but are not limited to: Kafka on the Shore, A Wild Sheep Chase, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, 1Q84, and After the Quake.