I don’t feel like I do, but if I walk outside, I matter. If you get up to go to your job or get coffee and the New York Times or workout and come back, you’re alive and you are part of society. We watch days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. Months turn into years. If we are lucky, our children grow, and we get to participate and help direct them. We look back fondly on those nights when they could not sleep because they were cutting their first tooth. When asked why I sounded so tired the next day, I explained the previous night to my mother.
“Steven, I know you have a bottle of scotch. You would not be your father’s son if you didn’t. Next time Alex starts to cry because of the teething, open the bottle and rub a small amount on a washcloth. Take the washcloth and rub it against his gums. I emphasize not too much. Within a few minutes, he will be asleep. I did that for all three of you.”
Damn if she wasn’t right. Let’s not tell the AMA or my ex-wife. Although I must admit after the third hour, I called Mom and told her to come over. Alex was still asleep. At least I think he was asleep. I wanted to put a mirror under his nose to see if he was still breathing.
Alex did not care if I felt invisible when I walked outside or if I felt like an imposter masquerading as a person or why I refused to listen to somebody who told me I had potential at a young age. He did not wonder why all I heard were the people telling me my life was a waste never stopping to question their existence. He just needed someone to take care of all of his needs and twenty years later I understand that should have been enough to prove to myself that I matter.
“Suddenly, I’m not half the man I used to be,” Paul McCartney, Yesterday
Life takes several twists and turns but never stops. Never. But sometimes we should. Ferris Bueller was correct. “If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
Yesterday I was battling two strollers and folding them and jamming them between the two bags of toys, Thomas the Tank Engine and his
friends, the cooler, the three basketballs, and the case of formula in the trunk of the car. I was driving Andrew to preschool. I was walking Alex to kindergarten. I was rushing from work to South County Park for Andrew’s and Alex’s basketball practices while changing into my shorts in the car. I was watching the Yankees in the World Series with Andrew sound asleep on the couch next to Alex and me. I was playing pool baseball in the back of the house with Alex, Andrew, and their friends. I was watching both boys playing varsity volleyball after a day of watching Alex on the debate team and Andrew leading the engineering team and setting up Legos against other schools. Yesterday, I made sure the Florida College Prepay was up to date for both boys.
Yesterday my father passed away. He officially died twelve days after Alex was born. He had been in a coma for the previous two months. My mother was not about to allow her husband to die before grandson number 7 was born. Upon Alex’s birth, she had no more excuses. The man she had been married to for 47 years had finally lost his battle. Alex was here and my dad was gone.
Yesterday my mother died. She had been battling dementia and the woman who sat with the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle was no longer that woman.
Yesterday I was hit by a car. I was seven years old. Greggory, the gardener, was outside with his crew. He looked both ways and gave me the high sign, indicating it was okay to cross. He did not expect the guy in the Mustang to roll through the stop sign. He should have stopped. (Today, parents walk their children to school. In the late 1960s not so much). My parents drove me home from the hospital, but I needed my older brother to carry me inside the house.
Yesterday, we drove up to the Catskill Mountains for three days of fun with everybody in the neighborhood. At the end of the bowling season, the guys who ran the league (everybody I knew had a dad who bowled once a week in the temple bowling league. I understand everyone’s dad enjoyed their weekly gathering, with the exception of Warren Kaye. Oh he went and upon arrival, I hear he allowed a smile to take over his face, but oh how he complained how tired he was throughout dinner and maybe they did not need him this week) took the extra cash and made a deal with The Concord or the Nevele, or Grossinger’s for three days of family fun. Those weekends were terrific but that drive-up was brutal. Back in the late 60s Dad smoked four packs a day and opening the window on the New York State Thruway allowing for some clean air for his wife and three kids never seemed to be an option. Even the dog, perched on the rear window appeared to be choking,
Yesterday I met my father for lunch at the 37th Street Hideaway. We had a couple of cocktails at the bar as my dad solved my business problems assuring me if I followed his advice, I would hit this month’s quota before going to a table for the baked salmon and a shot of Licor 43, or Cuarenta y Tres, a Spanish liqueur, for dessert.
Yesterday I went to dinner with three very good friends after working a trade show all day. At 2:00 AM, Mary Beth and John went back to his apartment while Pam came back with me. All I can remember was that I had to go back for the show’s second day and work it with a tremendous hangover. Pam had long gone leaving me to wonder where I was and just when we arrived there.
Yesterday I mailed a college graduation card to Alex. As has become the norm, I sent it to his mother’s sister’s house. It is the only address I have for him. And as has become the norm, the check went uncashed, and my texts of congratulations went unanswered. For kicks, I sent Andrew a card with a check as well. His check also went uncashed.
My sons are 22 and 20. But today they were 8 and 6. Or was it 4 and 2? Oh, how I needed to hug them. Oh, how I needed to hear their voices. Oh, how I felt a part of my soul being ripped out as I thought about no longer sharing their daily lives.
But life goes on refusing to stop.
It’s today. My mother will no longer call me with a woman’s phone number she never met but is “perfect” for me.
Lunches with my dad are a distant memory.
Coaching both boys in West Boca Basketball is over. I loved coaching them, but overzealous parents and coaches had me cursing the drive to the elementary school at the beginning of the season to deal with the mishigas of all those dads channeling their best Pat Riley, John Wooden, and Bobby Knight. Always doing something to game the system.
Done are piano recitals and football games in front of the house with any kid in the neighborhood who was around.
And over are the days of Alex sleeping in Andrew’s room because “he needs me to protect him in case something happens.”
Forgive, forget, and don’t hold grudges.
Time. It does not stop. I’m 61 years old and feel like I have the maturity level of someone who is 15. In fact, I’ve always felt as if I were still in high school. My self-image does not update nearly as quickly as my body does. Before looking in the mirror each morning, I feel 15. When I first look in the mirror, I see someone who is 61 and am bitterly distressed. Then I look closer … and, my goodness, reality sinks in.
I’ve always felt like I never got passed 11th Grade. Why is that? Is it because I only seem to get a quarter of the work done that needs to be completed? Is it that I want to feel competent to a degree that just isn’t possible in real-time?
Back here in the real world, I have just 24 hours per day, and I’m 61, and it seems that, if I blink, I’ll be 84. And that leads me to ask two questions:
Why does time seem to pass so quickly? The second is more difficult, is there anything we can do about it?
I’ve noticed my sense of history is changing as I get older as well. I was born in 1961. As I grew and became old enough to gain some sense of history, maybe by age 12 or so, the events of the 1950s and 1960s seemed to me to be what I would call “nearest” history. Today, although we are now 49 years down the road from when I was 12, “nearest” history seems to stretch further back in time.
I do know more history now than I did then. And that could make more distant things seem more familiar. But it could also be that I project a shadow of my own life backward from the year of my birth, and anything that falls within that shadow is considered “nearest history.” My shadow when I was 12 went back to 1957. Now it goes back to 1922.
It was just yesterday we were recovering from WWI, right?
Last night we were watching Walter Cronkite inform us about the Vietnam war during dinner.
Yesterday, my mother was calling her cousin in Toronto because her oldest son had turned 18 and his draft card number was 32.
Slowing down is a conscious choice and not always an easy one, but it leads to a greater appreciation for life and greater happiness. We cannot go back in time. The urge to hug a departed loved one again or prevent atrocities are among the compelling reasons that keep the notion of time travel alive in the minds of many. But we cannot live in the past. Oh, don’t get me wrong, it can be done but it is such a waste of time. You accomplish nothing. You are in quicksand. Sinking. (And wasting time is something I am well acquainted with).
While the idea makes for great fiction, most scientists now say traveling to the past is impossible. (Most? Who’s the one looking into it? Doc Brown?). Stick with watching Hot Tub Time Machine, Peggy Sue Got Married (seriously dating myself), and Back to the Future. And just move on.
How? How do we move forward and slow down time? I am so glad you asked because I have a few ideas.
- Do less. It’s hard to slow down when you are trying to do a million things. Instead, make the conscious choice to do less. Focus on what’s important, what really needs to be done, and let go of the rest. Put space between tasks and appointments, so you can move through your days at a more leisurely pace.
- Be present. It’s not enough to just slow down — you need to be mindful of whatever you’re doing at the moment. That means when you find yourself thinking about something you need to do, or something that’s already happened, or something that might happen … gently bring yourself back to the present moment. Focus on what’s going on right now. On your actions, on your environment, on others around you. This takes practice but is essential.
- Disconnect. Don’t always be connected. If you carry around an iPhone or Blackberry or other mobile devices, shut it off. Better yet, learn to leave it behind when possible. If you work on a computer most of the day, have times when you disconnect so you can focus on other things. Being connected all the time means we’re subject to interruptions, we’re constantly stressed about information coming in, and we are at the mercy of the demands of others. It’s hard to slow down when you’re always checking new messages coming in.
- Focus on people. Too often we spend time with friends and family or meet with colleagues, and we’re not really there with them. We talk to them but are distracted by devices. We are there, but our minds are on things we need to do. We listen, but we’re really thinking about ourselves and what we want to say. None of us are immune to this, but with conscious effort, you can shut off the outside world and just be present with the person you’re with. This means that just a little time spent with your family and friends can go a long way —a much more effective use of your time, by the way. It means we really connect with people rather than just meeting with them.
- Appreciate nature. Many of us are shut in our homes and offices and cars and trains most of the time and rarely do we get the chance to go outside. And often even when people are outside, they’re talking on their cell phones. Instead, take the time to go outside and really observe nature, take a deep breath of fresh air, and enjoy the serenity of water and greenery. Exercise outdoors when you can, or find other outdoor activities to enjoy such as nature walks, hiking, swimming, etc. Feel the sensations of water and wind and earth against your skin. Try to do this daily — by yourself or with loved ones.
- Eat slower. Instead of cramming food down our throats as quickly as possible — leading to overeating and a lack of enjoyment of our food — learn to eat slowly. Be mindful of each bite. Appreciate the flavors and textures. Eating slowly has the double benefit of making you fuller with less food and making the food taste better. I suggest learning to eat more real food as well, with some great spices (instead of fat and salt and sugar and frying for flavor).
- Drive slower. Speedy driving is a prevalent habit in our fast-paced world, but it’s also responsible for a lot of traffic accidents, stress, and wasted fuel. Instead, make it a habit to slow down when you drive. Appreciate your surroundings. Make it a peaceful time to contemplate your life and the things you’re passing. Driving will be more enjoyable, and much safer. You’ll use less fuel too.
- Find pleasure in anything. This is related to being present but taking it a step further. Whatever you’re doing, be fully present … and appreciate every aspect of it and find the enjoyable aspects. For example, when washing dishes, instead of rushing through it as a boring chore to be finished quickly, really feel the sensations of the water, the suds, and the dishes. It can really be an enjoyable task if you learn to see it that way. The same applies to other chores — washing the car, sweeping, dusting, laundry — and anything you do. Life can be so much more enjoyable if you learn this simple habit.
- Single task. The opposite of multi-tasking. Focus on one thing at a time. When you feel the urge to switch to other tasks, pause, breathe, and pull yourself back.
- Breathe. When you find yourself speeding up and stressing out pause and take a deep breath. Take a couple more. Really feel the air coming into your body and feel the stress going out. By fully focusing on each breath, you bring yourself back to the present and slow yourself down. It’s also nice to take a deep breath or two — do it now and see what I mean. 🙂
Time and tide wait for none. Remembered that proverb? Yes, in fact, we all know the proverb.
Okay, so both time and tide never wait, we know. Time we may not see, calculate or touch but when we see the tide and we can easily
figure out the tide brings something with it, leaves it on the shore, and takes back some other things. And it continues. The same is true about time. If it is taking away something, it has something for you too and it keeps on rolling.
Just appreciate, be open to your surrounding and you will find yourself enjoying many things.
From my life experience, I am saying this, sincerely plan things and make a layout but never push to make it happen. Being in a hurry is never successful.
Better yet? Find a friend. Meet a girl. Meet a guy. Enjoy it with somebody. Look back with fondness. Remember. Life goes by quickly. “If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”