you can take it with you

beauty is captured in a million memories over the course of a lifetime.  a sunset over the water in key west, a savory homemade dinner, a color-coded closet, a 3.5 gpa, a great hair day, a strawberry pop tart...  or the bittersweet memories - nursing your last baby for the last time, retiring from a lifelong career, being honestly beaten by your kids at checkers, walking to the bus stop on your first day of kindergarten.

regardless of any particular moment's depth, they're all beautiful, but all fleeting...  or are they?

whenever i'm experiencing one of these instances, i take a picture in my mind.  if there's opportunity, i'll spend a minute writing in my journal or whip out a camera, but in most cases my mind suffices.  you see, i can access the moments anytime by shutting my eyes and asking them to come on back to me.  in a quiet moment i can be flooded with imagery and feelings and smells, bringing the specialness of the scenario to the surface of my consciousness. but it starts with being present, being mindful.

my two year old son climbed into bed with me this morning.  he snuggled under my sheets and said, "a wuv you mammi."  while we laid there i rubbed his back and thought about how soft his skin feels.  how his fuzzy hair tickles my nose.  how long his eye lashes are.  the way his little toosh fits in the palm of my hand.  i memorized the feeling b/c life moves quickly and i want to carry that moment with me always.

i think those especially profound moments, though they feel temporary, are actually quite permanent.  i think that when our bodies die, our souls can live those moments over and over again without limitation.  so it's important to fill our lives with beautiful moments.  because they last forever.

this life is a drop in the ocean.  and the ocean is god, is us.  we are always young, or old, or in-between like i am now.  forget the timeline and live in the present, live for the experience, not for the goal.  because in the end, the result doesn't really matter.  the journey does.  and the journey continues.

so seek out and enjoy your special moments, because that is really all you have.  and your bank of memories is the only thing you take with you.

"the things he sees are not just remembered; they form a part of his soul."  maria montessori

peace!
v

a beautiful ordinary moment.  a picnic on the kitchen floor with my baby boy and a large cheese pizza.  a keeper.  :-)