There’s a moment for everything
The abrupt and severe winter weather in Texas last month reminded me of one thing that I find astonishingly easy to forget.
Besides how it feels to be cold. And how much I rely on modern plumbing. And electricity.
Okay fine, the chilly fiasco brought a lot of stuff up. But there’s one life lesson that particularly nabbed my attention: There’s a moment for everything.
There are moments for discomfort. Moments to be chilly and inconvenienced and have two babies with colds while you and your partner also feel sick. Just a hypothetical.
There are also times for celebration. Times for laughter, connection and adventure.
There are times for peace, quiet and reflection.
Times to feel joy.
Times to feel sad.
Times to feel meh.
Some moments will be great. Others will be less hunky-dory. But they’re all fair game in this wild and uncontrollable ride of life, and they all come and go.
Yes, we should talk about necessary changes to prevent pain and tragedy in the future. What happened was terrible. I’m not minimizing that. My family found somewhere warm to go. I’m heartsick for those who didn’t have that option. Some of you literally froze. I see that. I see you. I’m not brushing off the horrible and dangerous days you endured.
I’m raising a separate point about what the whole thing brings up about life.
It’s out of our control. It’s always flowing, constantly changing, and within that, there’s space for any experience to come to call.
We tend to get fixated on the stories and circumstances before us, but they always fade and transition into something new in due time.
As my mom reminded me on the phone while I sniffled, shivered and grumbled: “This too shall pass.”
We know this deep down, but it’s so easy to forget. We want the good moments to stay and the rough ones to go. It’s understandable, but this contradicts the nature of life. It’s battling the unavoidable reality that life is ever-changing and it does its own thing. It sets us up to suffer.
Just remembering this simple truth can be surprisingly helpful.
Gentle internal acknowledgments: “this is a moment to feel challenged,” “this is a moment for quiet rest,” “this is a moment for [insert yours here…]” can bring the concept to life.
As I observed during that rather unpleasant wintry week, it can initiate an underlying sense of centeredness. A feeling that everything is ultimately OK. Different experiences continue to arise, yet we maneuver with equanimity. There’s less strain; more of an abiding appreciation and air that’s serene.
If you’re like me, you’ll be inclined to forget this in the heat (or chill) of the moment. Friendly reminders and encouragement can go a long way.
There are a lot of moments for that.