Thursday, February 28, 2008

And These Moments Are Too Few

I watched as my Husband taught my children how to get the honey from a Honeysuckle flower.
He was passing on one of the badges of childhood--
One a scoutmaster simply could not provide.

And these moments are too few.

We all played tag and laughed.

And I remembered what joy
a simple game of tag can be.

The exhilaration of being so very close to base,
and the thrill of tagging someone
and running off to base yourself.



Our kids were so thrilled to have us there
enjoying part of their world.
More thrilled than getting to see the latest movie,
or the prospect of playing the latest video game.

And these moments are too few.

BUT

Why do we ever stop playing tag?
Going down the pool slide?
Playing games in the pool?
Having Fun?

Looking out my bedroom window,
watching the neighborhood fox pouncing at apparently nothing,
and then knowingly,
casually,
striding away.
He knows that the vole in the snow-surrounded footprint
thinks he has lost interest,
and as it hops towards the brush
in one swift swoop,
the brush-tailed red fox projects himself
and gently takes the vole in his mouth.
Walking slowly now,
through the snow,
his lean lines gracefully moving forward.
And in slow motion
appearing from the right,
a smaller, faster, thinner-tailed fox emerges,
unseen by the first.

They roll, and call an cry;
smaller one victorious,
the other retreating.

All the while a doe,
in the backdrop, limping
toward her eventual resting place,
circles,
and circles,
and unable to keep her eyes open any longer,
she rests.

Why do we stop noticing the life that's happening all around us?

I think we stop, because Life happens.
Because, It's time to grow up.
It's time to do your homework.
It's time to choose a college.
Because it's time to get a degree,
because it's time to find a job,
and time to choose a health plan.

We stop because, it's time to do the laundry,
and time to choose a pediatrician,
and time to replace the carpet.

Before you know it, It's time for retirement communities,
and retirement funds.

But there are moments.

Moments in between.
There are moments
in between the bill paying
and the grocery shopping
Moments in between the car waxing
and the tooth brushing.

But we rarely make appointments with ourselves.
The selves that yearn for fun.
The selves that yearn for tomfoolery,
and observation.

The selves that yearn for being.

But pencil it in if you must,
because moments are the stuff of life

Moments that take us by surprise.
Like when we look out the window
to find it's snowing.
Only the snow isn't falling in the usual way.
There is something different,
you notice.
It seems to be suspended,
floating down
diagonally,
and the flakes are larger and lighter,
than your usual flakes.

And these Moments are too few.

But we have lots and lots of moments.
And we don't have to stop playing,
and sliding,
and playing tag,
and noticing the world around us

But we do have to stop.

STOP.
So that the moments don't pass us by.
STOP.
To drink the moments in.
STOP.
And Smell the moments.

Because These Moments are Too Few.

"We don't stop playing because we grow old. We grow old because we stop playing."
-C. Wyatt Runyan

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