Life is long. It’s my very favorite saying. I live often in the light of it being fickle and fleeting and unconquerable. But in many realities, life is long. These moments we pour our essence into lasting an unremarkable amount of time and ultimately fading into the background of who we become. This point we’re in now will feel like a lighthouse in the distance. It’s many fraughts and feelings like the small pin prick of a familiar but vague landmark.
We watch as people fall everyday from unexpected calamities. We prepare as if we are next. But the reality of that sentiment boils down into rushing what we’re not prepared for and condensing what we’re not meant to feel in great quantities. The right way to live true to that ideal is to forgive while you can, say what you need to say in the moment it occurs to you and to never deny yourself what may only come along once in a lifetime. What you’re not meant to do is accelerate that which time cannot abbreviate or to rush what you are not naturally capable of meeting.
In many cases, life is long. Grudges fall away, learnings naturally integrate, hard things soften and closed doors open. We hasten to fill a lifetime into tomorrow because the next day may not come. And in the process we are not allowing tomorrow to bloom like it was intended. We don’t let the roots stretch or the leaves unfold or the petals drop. We simply don’t have the time. And in the process, we not only miss the harvest, we tend to kill the plant.