Sunday, February 11, 2024
There was this song in the 80s by the band Opus, a European group, called Life is life. I’ve always loved that song because it is an unbridled celebration of life, with a reggae beat and lyrics that remind us not to waste a minute of life. I was reminded of the song this week because I learned that my good friend’s wife had left this earth. I was reminded of how fragile and unpredictable our place in this world is. Of how we cannot take anything for granted anymore, that at a certain age we have to hedge our bets when making plans for the future. I grieve for my friend and his family and for that empty place at the table that could never be replaced.
I believe that if we were always conscious of our own mortality our lives would be better spent and lived. All the grievances and pettiness would be seen for what they are, unnecessary nuisances that stunt our growth as caring, loving, giving humans. We would get rid of all the useless baggage we carry about us; we would see the good in those that care for us and whom we care for; we would try, not try, we would enjoy every minute or every hour of every day of every month, and not worry so much about the past and the future. Yesterday is gone; tomorrow is a promissory note; but today we live, we live and enjoy the sunrise, our family and friends, and all the beauty that surrounds us. Sometimes we forget to look up at the sky and see the wonder of a full moon; we forget to enjoy a rain-soaked afternoon, and in the process forget to live.
I wish I knew where these thoughts come from, but I do know that they make me very conscious of my present. Reminds us of why we eat and breathe and love and sleep, reminding us of our existence. Not to go through life zombie like; not to just accept what we are given, but to strive for more out of life, mostly easier said than done. My friend calls me a romantic, and I suppose I am, but I want to romance life and living, in all its forms. I never want to be too distracted by negativity to not enjoy every single living moment that I have left.
Again, I grieve for my friend and his family. Life is life! Asà es, asà será!
Glen