taking time
i don’t think anyone would disagree with the fact that we’ve had a tumultuous year. between work and family issues, naz and i have faced our share of challenges, grief, and anxiety. but we’re also a good team. we play off each other’s strengths well and are able to persevere, leaning on one another when necessary.
despite our best collaborative efforts to keep our spirits afloat during the more trying moments of this year, we still need a break. we need some time to unwind and let our brains turn to mush, ever so slightly. and sadly, i almost didn’t allow this requisite decompression to happen. sensibilities got in the way of whimsy. frugality pushed in front of adventure. but only momentarily. until i thought of dad and how disappointed he must be in me.
i agonized over our upcoming quarterly tax bill. i fretted over finding animal sitters. i felt a pang of guilt after opting for a true holiday as opposed to visiting mom like i promised back in june. i worried about requesting more days off from work, despite this time off being a complete 180 from those previous two weeks. (bereavement leave is decidedly different from vacation, and surely my coworkers would understand that.) and yet, after contemplating all of this and probably more, i recognized the necessity for a brief reprieve from everything.
naz countered my initial reservations with his fears of regret. living each day like it’s his last. embracing spontaneity and reckless abandon as best as one can while working full-time and attending to this thing called “adulthood.”
I also want to balance [finances] with a life that we don’t regret down the line. The trips or things we didn’t see or experience. I always have this fear that I won’t have experienced the things I wanted to. And I know I won’t do it all, but within means, I’d like to.
and suddenly, a chord had been struck—not to mention, the graphic image (the one i thought i tucked away) of dad’s colorless and dying body thrust itself to the forefront of my brain. the shell of a man who probably had his share of regrets during such a short life. whether he came to terms with all of his choices or non-choices, i’ll never know.
but what i do know is dad would not approve of my worry. he wouldn’t condone me second-guessing everything. he would leap then look. that was his nature. and if there were any traits of his i should incorporate into my overall persona, it would be that. not to take life or yourself too seriously. enjoy yourself to the best of your ability. you simply have no idea how long you have, as cliché as it sounds.
dad would question why we don’t live life like we’re on vacation, while actually ON vacation. even mom applauded our eventual decision with a “Yeah! You go, guys!” text message. she, too, is getting into the spirit of experiencing life and not living for others. i didn’t think dad could instill lessons in all of us after the fact, but he has managed to teach us from beyond. or rather, in my case at least, his spirit is attempting to restore my own impetuousness from days gone by. the former me wouldn’t bat an eye at jumping ship for awhile to explore other lands. the me from the past typically put the thrill before the dull. and there’s no reason why i can’t reestablish this habit.
i won’t revert completely to those old ways (i have things called financial goals now), but i do need to accept the inevitable while making the most of what i can. so portland, oregon, we’re coming your way in a few weeks. hawai’i, your volcanoes and beaches and forests and waves were all temptresses, but you’ll have to wait till we can enjoy you fully.
and thank you, naz, for all of our constructive dialogue on this matter among others.
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edited to include this bit from the ray lamontagne tune, “till the sun turns black,” which seemed very fitting for this posting:
Can you see the wise man simply
Living loving quietly
Every breath he takes eternity
Till the sun turns black