It's funny how different generations view aging. Kids say how they can't wait to be older and able to make their own decisions. Older generations say that they wish they could go back and just have a little more time to have soaked it all in. My generation is just too busy to even have an opinion either way. We're at the stage now where when a birthday goes by we say, "Oh that's today? Okay." This process, of course, will repeat many times over until we get to the age where we'd just rather hide under the bed, rather than have our loved ones remind us that we're that much closer to the end. However up until very recently I was stuck in the child's mentality where time was simply an obstacle. Time separated me from where I was to where I wanted to be. Where a child would say, "It's only a month until Christmas, I'm going insane waiting," or "I can't wait for summer," I would say things like "I can't wait for tennis season to start," or "I am so ready to get done with this day." It's a normal wish for us in our lives where work sometimes weighs us down and we can't wait to get out of there or we really have something that we're looking forward to however it still adds up to the same result. What we're valuing is some obscure thing that is far ahead of us instead of what is right under our noses. We're basically wishing our lives away.
It was Sunday afternoon at the neighborhood park when it all of a sudden hit me. I watched my three year old discovering his first mud puddle in the center of a soccer field. He splased around in it for a good while, alternating between picking up handfuls of mud and throwing them aimlessly around only to try and wipe clean the remnants on his shirt or pants. I wanted that moment to slow down, not stop entirely because I was having too much fun laughing about not only his antics, but about how much trouble I was going to be in when I brought him home, covered from head to toe in mud. And when I say head to toe, I mean it was caked in his hair and cemented to the bottom of his shoes. It was the first time in years that I wanted to hold on to it as long as possible. When you get married, you can't wait to go on the honeymoon. When your kids are born, you can't wait for them to say their first words, or at least get out of the staying up all hours of the night crying. This was a moment that I didn't have to look forward to, it was happening right now and its result was worth more than any start of a tennis season and any end of a bad day combined. Any moment, with the exception of weddings and babies being born, that I had looked forward to in the past was all of a sudden trumped by a three-year old acting a fool in a 2 inch puddle of water mixed with dirt. Of course the fun at the park eventually ended and instead of wanting time to slow down because of enjoyment I wanted it to stop entirely because I could not explain, to my wife for the life of me, why we were trapsing across a newly mopped floor with mud all over us. But there's something to be said for that point in time where your split between wanting time to speed up and wanting to go back. At some point the personal goals don't matter, the need for validation doesn't matter and the moment for a great opportunity that you can't wait for can wait. It can wait because I'm helping my three-year old pull his wagon. It can wait because I'm out to dinner with my wife. It can wait because I'm busy making absolutely embarrasingly goofy faces at my five-month old just to coax a smile out of him.
One of my best friends once told me close to 16 years ago, "Don't wish your life away."
Anyone that knew me 16 years ago knows exactly who said it and why it is probably one of the most important pieces of advice I've ever gotten. At the time it wasn't exactly to easiest advice to take and it's probably why I chose to ignore it until I almost did.
That's about as deep as I go. I'll try to provide a laugh next time around.
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