June 7, 2017
I’ve come to a greater appreciation that it’s the quality of a moment, and not it’s duration, that is the most important aspect of any event.
Remember how I waxed near poetical about anticipating the day when I would be able to take in the aroma of my lilacs and lilies-of-the-valley at the same time? That was a moment I’ve been anticipating since I panted both the lilac bushes, and the lily bulbs at the front of my house.
Lilac bushes don’t seem to grow quickly, at least not compared to other flowering shrubs. They take time. Lots of time. I wish I could remember exactly how many years ago I panted mine, but it has to have been at least 4 years ago. They’ve only grown a few inches in height in that time, and have gained a bit of girth. Every spring, I count the appearance of those tiny green buds as the bushes/trees proclaim new life, a victory. Last winter wasn’t as harsh, here, as the winter before. That doesn’t mean I was any less on pins and needles, waiting to see those buds. I really don’t take their survival for granted.
What I didn’t know was that this spring’s blossoms would finally reach the point of being bountiful enough to release a good amount of fragrance into the air. And yes! I was finally able to inhale both scents at the same time. I didn’t know it was going to be this year. But, as I am prone to do, I’d hoped.
It was a wonderful handful of mornings. Not a full week, more like four days. Yes, I’ve been waiting for years and I got about four days during which those two aromas mingled.
I wonder if that’s a metaphor for life, in general. Do you suppose that a lot of things are that way, that the anticipation appears to outweigh the actual event? I know many would say it’s so. I hope I am never among those that do.
You see, I count anticipation as part of the event. I’ve always done that. I enjoy planning for a trip, working out what clothing I’m going to take, what sights I want to see, even what I might like to bring back for my grandchildren as gifts. To me, that has always been a part of the experience of vacation. That way, the “trip” if you will, isn’t only the week or so of the actual time away from home, but includes the months leading up to it.
Similarly, the years that I’ve spent hoping for, and waiting for, that sense of scent (pardon my pun) had as its crescendo, the few mornings recently past, when I stepped onto my porch, inhaled deeply, and received as my reward an emotional homecoming of sorts. But the anticipation of that first day, that first moment, that first breath—well, that was as much a part of the experience, don’t you think?
We live in an instant society, when we expect everything to be fast. I’m guilty of that myself. Patience? I pray for it every day but many days sadly go without that admirable quantity. You should see me at my computer some days. I open one browser, click on the site I want that’s in my bookmarks—and if it’s not opening in five seconds, I’ll close that browser and open another. Nope, sometimes, there’s no patience here.
But that saying, patience has its rewards? It’s true, if you make anticipation a part of the event or experience you’re aiming for.
That almost seems counter to what I said last week about not wishing away time, but it’s not. It’s more like savoring your time. I try to savor each day, to find something to appreciate and be thankful for.
Because, at the end of my time here on earth, I don’t want to regret that I was in too much of a hurry to look forward to and embrace the small miracles of life.